


A Little Lesson in Love

by Vindicated_Goldfish



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Basketball?, ChemistryTeacher!Ryan, Great now have some more, Have some banter, HighschoolTeachersAU, HistoryTeacher!Shane, M/M, Mutual Pining, Student oc's that totally ship them, They both run clubs, Well Ryan's just a basketball coach, friendly rivals, idiots to lovers, look at these dorks, unbeta-ed so please tell me if there's typos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vindicated_Goldfish/pseuds/Vindicated_Goldfish
Summary: Mr. Madej was fully prepared to face another average year at the high school where he works, but all that changed when he fell (Quite literally) into the arms of the cute new chemistry teacher.But nothing like a little friendly competition to try to stamp out your massive crush on your coworker, right?And so the school year begins. With some Frisbee, meddling students and plenty of banter, that is.
Relationships: Andrew Ilnyckyj/Steven Lim (mentioned), Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 169
Kudos: 297





	1. The Responsible-Teacher-Thing to do

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Y'all!!  
> Disclaimer: This is for entertainment! It is not meant to have any bearing on reality or to insinuate anything that people would be uncomfortable with. These two ghoulfriends both have wonderful girlfriends, who are beautiful and amazing women in their own right. I’m just one heck of a sucker for the gay yearning ;’) 
> 
> Also- Don’t hate me for any wrong facts when it comes to L.A., I’m a midwestern boi*.  
> *when I say boi I mean useless lesbian. Just in case anyone was confused. 
> 
> Happy Happy reading! This is all veryyyy fluffy and self-indulgent, so I hope it brings you the joy it gave to me writing it. :^D

Small Public school in Hyde Park, Los Angeles, California. 

Mr. Madej was a rather tall man, a trait that one notices very quickly upon their first meeting him. A large majority of the time this feature only brought him cliché comments and questions: from countless ‘How tall are you actually?’s to the ever-common ‘Do you play basketball?’ the beloved history teacher had heard it all. But there are certain advantages that came with his gangling limbs. 

Currently, they were serving him quite well.  
Everyone is in the hallways, packed tight. It’s about as close to chaos as you can get without people throwing things. (Which happened last year, so he should know) The teachers are doing their best to escort students to the auditorium without losing anyone from their homeroom in the transition, including Mr. Madej, who is the resident world history teacher, or has been for the last 4 years.  
He shuffled along, looking down at the sea of colorful high-schoolers, careful not to lose sight of any of his students in the hord that flooded the hall shortly after the announcement clicked off. Today, on the third official day of school, they had the annual back-to-school assembly. (On the third day of school. Yes, it's weird, but it is also a tradition, so it’s probably best not to question it.) 

He was climbing the steps to the auditorium door, the rest of his class already inside finding their seats, when his very own long-ass limbs decided to stumble on the very last step, tripping head-first into one of the only people still yet to enter the theatre. 

Just his luck.

The stranger scrambled to stop him from completely falling face-first into the cold, hard cement stairs, desperately grabbing onto the bicep of his left arm, which he was quite grateful for.  
On the other hand, he felt a familiar twinge of guilt as his gaze slid down to the small stack of papers that this mysterious individual was forced to drop in order to catch him. 

Regaining his balance on the first step, he immediately bent down, grabbing the man’s papers before straightening up and-

Damn. Only Shane Madej could mess up a first introduction to the level of falling directly into the arms of the one-and-only new chemistry teacher. 

He held out the papers, his gaze rising to the man standing on the step above him (and thus almost perfectly eye-level) and-

Oh fuck. As Shane looked into his dark eyes, his raven-black hair that shone in the harsh fluorescent light, the five o’clock shadow that graced his jaw (Despite it only being 7:30) and the strong slope of his shoulders, he came to the sudden realization that, Jesus, this man is cute. Fuck. 

‘No, nope we are NOT going into a gay panic in the middle of GODDAMN school day. No way. There might be students with camera-phones around- ‘  
Shane thought, snapping out of it and climbing up the last step, only to be confronted by the sudden fact of just how adorably short this man is compared to him. 

“So you're the new guy? Well, thanks for preventing me from eating a face full of cement for breakfast.” He looked down with a bashful grin. “Not exactly the best way to start your third day here, huh?” Shane laughed, hesitantly returning his gaze to the man in front of him.

“I mean, technically it’s my first day here, because I was sick on Monday and Tuesday,”

“Well that explains why I didn’t recognize you immediately. And, uh, thanks again for catching me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I should probably be keeping up with my class, though.”

“Oh, yeah, totally. I should find out where my class went too. That would be the responsible-teacher-thing to do wouldn't it?” 

“Probably,” The man chuckled. 

The whole conversation took less than a minute. So why did it feel so long? After all they only exchanged pleasantries. It’s not like anything remotely significant happened. Yeah. Nope. Nothing. So… why? 

Shane and the new teacher were the last people to enter the auditorium, closing the door behind them just as the Principal took stage. 

He was able to locate his students with a quick scan over the seats, and started to head over to the upper middle rows, where they were currently trying not to roll their eyes at the principal's overly-friendly greeting. 

What proceeds has got to be 90% of the most boring speech Mr. Madej has ever heard. It’s all about how much this school has to offer and how they’re going to have a ‘great year together’. Also known as: the same speech for the fourth year, as of now.

Most teachers and students tune out all the useless information they already know, and the motivational message that they’ve all heard before.  
That is until the very end of the speech, when everyone leans forwards and pricks up their ears to catch the last thing the principal has to say.

“Finally, to conclude our talk today, I will be announcing homeroom rivals,”  
Excited murmurs rose from the crowd.

Mr. Madej sighed, looking down at his coffee tumbler, worn from all the long school days it’s spent at his side or the mornings being lugged into endless staff meetings. Lost in thought, he recalled his last homeroom rival. Last year he was stuck with a teacher who barely participated in the rivalry, leaving his own students unmotivated and leaving Shane with memories of the dullest year he’s ever taught. He mostly just hopes that he’ll get paired with a better teacher this year that is actually excited about the rivalry, and, you know, teaching in general. 

Lost in less-than-exciting memories, he tilts his head to gaze at the ceiling, so far above him, (For once, he wasn’t at risk of smacking his head) the catwalks of the theatre almost hidden in the darkness, all mystery and stale air and full of the thrill of being so far from the crowd, unnoticed by everyone fixated on the stage. The stage lights sent halos of rainbow light spiraling across his vision, dancing across the lenses of his clear-framed glasses. He admired it for a few seconds before he tore his eyes away upon hearing his name being called out by the principal. 

The principal announced it efficiently, just another pair of names on a list to be spoken aloud in his rough and scratchy voice. 

Trivial for him, life-changing for another. 

“Mr. Madej’s homeroom and Mr. Bergara’s homeroom,-”

He goes on listing names, but Shane’s only half-listening.  
He searches the auditorium in the direction that the new teacher went, before his eyes fell upon the man he fell upon not even half-an-hour ago. 

Ryan, feeling the gaze of someone resting gently on his shoulders, turned around just a moment late, to only see a sea of eyes trained on the stage.  
Huh. 

He turns forwards again only to feel the same sensation a few minutes later. But this time, when he turns around, he is greeted by sly grin that, upon being perceived morphs into a smirk as its owner raises his coffee tumbler in his direction in a mischievous salute.

And, two minds experienced different wordings of the same thought in the exact same moment. 

“Well, this should be fun.” 

-

The rest of the day passes rather slowly for Shane, after he herds his students back to his classroom just in time for the bell to ring, and settles into some semblance of pattern for the remainder of the morning. 

After a while, the final bell of the day rang, and almost instantly his sixth hour was out of their seats.

“Don’t forget! Your maps are due tomorrow! Labeled and colored!” 

The students left, and the classroom was silent. 

But Shane’s mind was definitely not. 

He grappled with thoughts in the now-quiet room for several minutes before deciding, ‘Ah, fuck it,’ and slowly stood, grabbing his coffee tumbler and leaving the solitude and sanctity of his empty classroom. 

-

Ryan sighed heavily, sinking back into the chair at his desk. He stretched before resigning himself to checking his emails. Nothing interesting, mostly standard beginning-of-the-year protocol and a few emails from parents asking about their kid. He replied briefly, and was in the midst of reading an email about preparing topics and questions for the next staff meeting when he heard a gentle tap of knuckles on the metal door frame. 

“Hey. Do you mind if I come in?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure, I mean- come in. I’m just reading emails, so don’t worry about interrupting anything.” Ryan said, closing his computer. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Parents or administration?” The Man from earlier walked over and leaned on the desk closest to Ryan’s. 

“Administration for now, but you never know. These students seem to love emailing me at three A.M., though. I seriously doubt the poor kids get any sleep.” he paused. “Sorry, I don’t know if I caught your name earlier,”

“Shane Madej.” he said, reaching out for a handshake. 

“Ryan Bergara.” Ryan took his hand, noting how Shane’s slender fingers had a deceptively firm grip. 

“So.. your name was called along with mine earlier,” Ryan stated, “I think that was one staff meeting I missed, because I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.”

This drew a good-hearted chuckle from Shane, who set his coffee down to explain. “Yeah, even if you were there it wouldn't have made much sense. It’s kind of an odd tradition here, it’s been around even before my time.”

“How long have you been here?” Ryan asked out of curiosity. 

“This is my fourth year.” 

“Oh, cool”

“Here, let me buy you a drink. I know a good place where I can explain everything,” Shane offered casually. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Great! I’ll go get my stuff, we can walk there.” Shane said, grabbing his coffee and walking to the door. 

Ryan watched him walk out, watched his flannel disappear from sight. And maybe it was too soon to smile, but he couldn’t help it. 

He stuffed his laptop in his backpack, along with a few papers he had to go over at home. He then walked out to the hallway and saw Shane, who was now carrying a messenger bag, close and lock his classroom door. 

“You ready?” Shane said, glancing down at Ryan. 

“Depends. Are you planning on kidnapping me?”

“No, but I can double check the agenda if that would make you feel better.” 

“And who’s agenda would that be?” 

“Mr. Ehlenbach's. I stole it from him when he wasn’t looking.” 

“The vice principal’s already trying to kidnap me? God, I really need a drink now.”

“Wouldn't that just make you easier to kidnap?” Shane quipped. 

“Ugh, now I’m just confused. Drink first, logic second.” 

“Scienceteachersayswhat?” 

“Oh, shut up you tall idiot,” Ryan replied reflexively, and immediately reprimanded himself for insulting a coworker on his first day. 'I wouldn’t blame him if he hates me no-'

“Careful Bergara,” Shane laughed, “Flattery won’t work on me.” 

“Eh, I’ll just try again later.” Ryan said, relieved. 

They made their way out of the building around 3:30, and started walking up West Gage Avenue, heading towards downtown. 

“So,” Ryan said, kicking a pebble resting on the sidewalk. “Do you want to explain this whole ‘Rival’ thing that I’ve been hearing so much about?” 

“Oh, yeah. I mentioned it’s kind of this tradition, right?” Shane said, kicking the same pebble, a few steps later. 

“Yep”

“Right. So, at the beginning of every year all our names get written down and drawn randomly, two at a time. The two names are then marked as a pair, and announced at that assembly. The principal announces them, which is a surprise, because even the teachers don’t know who’s being paired. Capisce?” Ryan watched as Shane turned around and started walking backwards so they could talk face-to-face as he explained, allowing Ryan to see his wild hand gestures while he talked, even if he almost ran into three separate people. 

“Capisco!” Ryan echoed Shane’s excited (If a bit stereotypical) Italian. 

“And so the names of the teachers that got pulled, their homerooms are ‘rivals’ for the school year. And when I say rival, I don’t mean like an I’m-going-to-gut-a-fish-and-put-it-in-your-backpack way, but more like in a, uh, friendly way. Basically, Every Friday the homeroom rivals compete in some sort of challenge. Usually it’s just some dumb game, like we’ve done hang-man in the past, but sometimes administration decides to step it up a notch and throw something really big together. But that mostly happens towards the end of the year, so we’re safe for now. It mostly depe-”  
Ryan grabbed Shane’s forearm in the middle of him talking to pull him out of the way of the lamppost he almost backed into. 

“Woah, careful there dude!” 

“Oh.. uh, sorry. God, let’s not make this a trend.”

“Make what a trend?” 

“Me being a klutz and you saving me from falling face-first into the cement.” Shane turned around, flustered, so he was walking alongside Ryan again. 

“It’s not like you can help it; gangly limbs and all that. Anyway, what were you saying?” Ryan asked, genuinely curious. 

“Oh. So, yeah, every Friday either me and my homeroom go to your room, or you come to mine, and we do some school-wide challenge. But! More importantly, this is all for a higher purpose! During the last month of school we have an ultimate Frisbee tournament where the two ‘rival’ homerooms join to become one team, and compete. Because it’s a bracket tournament, we’ll have two Fridays of prelim rounds, with each round lasting 30 minutes, and then on the last day of school, we have semi-finals in the morning (If we haven’t been eliminated yet) and then Finals in the afternoon. Making it to or winning finals is a pretty big deal, the final round is in the stadium and the whole school is watching.” 

“Woah, I-, Jesus” 

“Yeah.” 

“So we’re going to be on a team together?”

“Yep.”

“I guess we better start practicing comradery now.”

“Well, right now we are rivals, technically.” Shane quipped, turning a street corner. 

\- 3 hours later

In a Small bar downtown, two slightly tipsy men animatedly chat.

“All due respect, Ryan, but that is Bullshit. I’m sorry, it is.”

“No, no, no- you can't just dismiss me like that! Billions of people have lived before us- what? Do you think we just disappear forever when we die? There has to be- “

“There is zero evidence”

“There is a lot of-”

“YOu are a ScIEncE teacher! You! Of all people-”

“Yeah! And listen to what this science teacher has to say! There has been way too much evidence to simply dismiss it without a doubt! And it is scientific! I have a Science degree from the university of California! And-”

“Yeah in Chemistry, not ghostology or some dumb shit, “ 

“look- “ he sighs, but his eyes are alight. “You can't just dismiss it ALL as fake.” 

“Watch me.”

“Whatever, man. Ghosts are real, you’re just too scared to admit it.”  
Shane shook his head, taking another sip of his beer before setting it back down on the bar. He raised his hand, catching the bartender’s attention and asking for the bill. 

“I can pay,” Ryan offered, reaching for his wallet. 

“Consider this your welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift.”

“No, you’ve done so much for me, how could I-”

“Here- Let’s just say that you owe me a drink next time. Or a favor.”

“Hmm.. Usually I don’t trade in favors, but I suppose I’ll make an exception.” Ryan mused.

“Hell yeah you will” Shane said playfully nudging Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan grinned, and they grabbed their bags and walked outside to see the sun beginning to set. It painted the horizon above L.A. in a beautiful mixture of pinks and soft oranges, making the wisps of clouds glow.  
They stood for a minute, enjoying the sight of the sky, the sensation of the gentle breeze, the company they shared it with, and the ultimate feeling of just being alive. People walked by. Someone called out a name that wasn’t theirs.  
It’s been a while.

“How far do you live?” Shane asked, realizing that it’s going to be dark soon. 

“About six blocks.” Ryan said, tearing his gaze away from the sunset. 

“North or south? South being that way.” Shane pointed away from downtown. 

“South.” 

“Is it ok if I walked you? I live south of here too.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Cool.” 

They started down the street, chatting amiably about everything from lesson plans to burritos. (Which they both agree are wonderful, passing the first official test of their friendship.)  
As they strolled down the streets of Hyde park the skies grew dark, and they quickly lost track of time. All of a sudden, Ryan stood still. 

“Something wrong?” Shane asked, turning around. 

“This is my stop.” Ryan said. 

“Oh, yeah,” Shane laughed nervously. “My bad.” 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ryan got out his apartment keys and climbed up the front steps of the building. 

“Yeah... Hey!” 

“What?” Ryan asked, turning around. 

“We should get drinks after work again sometime. I had fun. I also have no friends.” Shane admitted. Ryan laughed, and god, was it a joyous noise. 

“Well, I guess I have to shoulder the burden that is your friendship all on my own. Wish me luck.” Ryan put the keys back into his pocket and opened the door. He waved before stepping inside. 

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow!” Shane said, grinning. 

By the time Shane arrived home, not long after, it was dark.


	2. Hell-Raising is Scheduled for Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finds out that Shane is, in fact, a disgraced former clown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces some fun students, along with a familiar face, so stay tuned 0.0

Thursday, September 3rd. (The next day)

  
  


On Thursdays, homeroom is used as a 45-minute long study hall. But, it being the start of the year and all that, most of the students just hang out, sitting on top of desks and talking to their friends, laughing at inside jokes and whispering secrets that someone else would probably kill to know. 

Mr. Bergara just spent the time cleaning out the cupboards. _Real_ man of _mystery_ here. 

He stands in the back of the class, amidst the lab tables and atop a chair, pulling out all the dusty glassware that needed to be washed. He was just setting down a rack of vials when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He stepped off the chair, pulling out his phone to find that Shane had sent him a text. 

  
  


_“The best way to destroy the British Empire would have been to slowly poison all the members of the monarchy, leaving the people without the leaders they have relied upon for so long. Picture: the French Revolution but with less guillotine and more earl grey tea.” -My new favorite student_

_Sent 7:38 A.M_.

He chuckled and smiled as he typed up a reply.

**I’m going to tell the administration that you’re promoting favoritism. Besides, your students may be talking about quirky revisionist history, but mine are 100% gossiping. Should I choose to listen, I could blackmail half the people in this school, no question. & They’re not even ashamed about it.**

_Read 7:40 A.M._

_Ooh, are they talking about me? I would l o v e to see the kind of dirt the students have dug up_

_Sent 7:41 A.M._

**Jesus, dark past much? You imply that there is a lot of dirt to uncover. I bet you were part of the mob. I wouldn't put it past you to be a disgraced former clown or smth, either. Can’t wait to find out. Will keep you posted.**

_Read 7:43 A.M._

_You really do assume the worst of me, don’t you? Clown? Really? Come on, man._

_Sent 7:44 A.M._

_-_

“Hey, yo, are you seein’ this?” A student named Shawna nudged her friend Felix. She gestured over to where Mr. Bergara was smiling at his phone. “Mr. new teacher has a girlfriend.” 

“Oh ho?” Felix looked up from his calculus worksheet, only to see Mr. Bergara running the beakers under the sink. “Are you…. He’s just washing beakers… are you implying… that the beakers?” 

“That he… ? No! You missed it, earlier he was smiling at his phone.” 

“That doesn’t necessarily mean ‘girlfriend’. Maybe he was smiling at one of those dorky-ass teacher memes or a picture of a dog, you don’t know.” 

“No… Look up! Look up! He pulled out his phone again! He's typing so it’s probably a text he’s smiling at.” Felix looked up again to see that, yes, this time Mr. Bergara was indeed smiling at a text message. 

“Okay, so he probably has a girlfriend or something. Why do we care?” 

“You know how I’m a captain this year?”

“Weird flex, pulling rank already?” 

“Shut up. So I was talking to Coach about scheduling captain’s practices, and she let slip that there’s going to be a new assistant coach this year.” 

“For boys or girls basketball?” 

“For our J.V., yeah.” 

“And you think it’s Mr. Bergara?” 

“He’s the only new teacher this year.” 

“Ok, great, secrets of the universe solved, he’s the basketball coach, but what does that have to do with him having a ‘girlfriend’” 

“We’ll see. I’d just rather know more than less.”

“Oh!” Felix looked up again. “Do you think we could blackmail him?” 

“Felix!” Shawna said indignantly. “We only blackmail bad people! Remember?” 

“Hey! I’m just sayin’, I mean, besides, he could be a terrible person for all we know.” 

“That’s it. Back to calculus for you.” Shawna said, forcing his head back down to direct his gaze back to his worksheet just in time for the bell to ring. 

All the students, including Shawna and Felix, busted out of the classroom, hurrying down the hall to their fist hour. In contrast, Mr. Bergara sat down at his desk perfectly tranquil, opening his computer and booting up the power-point that would accompany today’s notes. A minute later, the first students started arriving, setting down their backpacks. 

The second bell rang, signalling the start of first hour. 

“Alright, phones away. Today we will be taking more notes, this time about atomic mass and weight. Yes, I know, not _super_ exciting, but remember we have a lab tomorrow, and will start the write-up during the second part of class. Questions?” 

The lack of hands told him that this was going to be a very long day. 

Fortunately, though, noon came sooner than later and Ryan found himself walking down to the staff lounge carrying his bag lunch. 

The hallways were empty -a welcome change from the usual- as most of the students were either in a classroom behind a shut door, or at lunch in the cafeteria, from which there echoed a harsh cacophony of chatter the Ryan could hear even from down the hall.

Reaching the door to the staff room, he hesitated, hand halfway to the door. The day prior, he had eaten lunch alone, at his desk, in complete silence. 

No, it’s not that sad. 

Really!

Okay, it’s a little sad. 

Just a little. 

But it wasn’t so bad. He was a grown-ass man, and he was perfectly content with eating lunch in an empty room. Or he was, until he got a text from Shane that mentioned that he usually ate lunch in the Staff room with a couple of other friends. 

So here he was, standing on the other side of the door, listening to the gentle murmurs of an idle conversation that took place within the room. He heard someone laugh. 

He opened the door. 

He was greeted by a quite lovely sight, a medium-sized room with a fridge and microwave, lilac walls, two round tables and a string of fairy lights giving off a soft glow in the far corner.

But what he _saw_ was two of his colleagues at the closest table, now paused in their conversation. One of them was Shane. The other he recognized, but couldn't remember the name of. 

Ryan closed the door behind him, and when he turned back Shane was beckoning him over to the table. 

“Hey, glad you braved the journey! Again sorry your class is kind of far, mine is too, which is why you don’t see many teachers here during lunch. By the time they get here, lunch is already half over.” Shane said, his hands settling back onto the table. 

“Yeah, they really need to extend lunch. Thirty minutes is not enough time to eat a proper meal.” The Asian man sitting next to Shane chimed in. 

“And as you can see,” Shane said as Ryan took the seat next to him, “Steven’s first priority is food, as always.” 

“Food is an essential part of both physical and mental well-being.” Steven retaliated around a mouthful of his salad. 

“I’m not arguing, I’m just pointing out that your absolute first thought was food, not time to interact with fellow humans or get work done.” Shane pointed his fork at Steven accusingly. 

“To be fair,” Ryan contributed, “Usually those follow after you eat your lunch, not the other way around.” 

“Ryan!” Shane turned to face him. “Whose side are you on? Are you tap dancing for the man here?” He then turned to confront Steven. “Did you pay him to say that?” 

“Yes, I knew exactly how this conversation would play out, and I paid him to say those precise words.” Steven deadpanned. 

“Yeah Shane, be nice. I practiced that line all last night, I’ll have you know.” Ryan said with false malice. 

“What have I done…” Shane stared at his lunch bag. “They will be unstoppable…”

“So What do you teach Ryan? Just in case you turn out to have a set of skills that I could use to my advantage, should come an apocalypse or other extenuating circumstance?”

“Shane, you already know what I teach.” 

“Ah, yes, but to preserve the sanctity of polite conversation, the rules of societal convention would mark it rude of you to leave my question unanswered. Also, Steven doesn’t know” 

“Right, I teach 9th and 10th grade chemistry.” 

“Freshmen, that’s tough.” Shane said sympathetically. Ryan shot him a look to remind him that he already knew that Ryan taught freshmen.

“Nah, freshmen are fun because you get to crush that light in their eyes, y’know, prepare them for the job market,” 

“Jesus, Ryan” Shane remarked as Ryan set down his sandwich. 

“No, I see where he’s coming from. I taught 9th graders at my last school. Easier to manipulate.” Steven commented. 

“You know what, you’ve got a point. I’m sold. You had me at manipulating children.” Shane gave a laugh, and soon the rest of them joined in, at least until Steven checked his phone and saw the time.

“Oh, crap we gotta go- the bell’s about to ring” They got up hastily, shoving what remained of their lunches back into their lunch bags and rushing out the door, like the three musketeers, but disorganized. 

They pushed open the door, met with the natural sunlight that poured from the windows that lined the other side of the hallway, giving students a blessed glimpse of what fresh air looks like. 

They had just stepped into the hallway when the bell rang. Ryan’s pretty sure he heard Shane mutter something about “Short school-children...Zoomers... fuck.” 

Ryan has a wonderful choice in friends, in case you were wondering. 

“Why are we rushing?” Ryan said jogging a few paces to keep up with Shane and Steven’s longer legs and relentless pace. 

“If the after-lunch crowd catches up with you, you’re toast. Lost. Swept away.” Steven commented, eyes fixed forwards. “Unless you’re Shane. Pretty hard to lose in crowds. Us, though? Goners.” It was then when Ryan heard the chaos of the approaching crowd. 

“I-Jesus.” 

“Keep walkin’ Bergara.” Shane put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and pushed him along gently, forcing him to quicken his pace, gaining lost ground from where he’s slowed to process the situation. He saw Steven turn down a different hall out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, and before I forget, Is it okay if I stop by after class today?” He heard the voice in his ear, low and soft over the noise of the approaching teenagers. “Or do you have hell to raise somewhere else, come the final toll of the bell?”

“Not today. No, Hell-raising is scheduled for Friday.”

“Cool. Catch you then.” 

Shane’s hand left Ryan’s shoulder rather quickly, but he could still feel the warmth of it when he entered his classroom, seconds before the first student arrived. 

It… Wasn’t a bad feeling. 

The skin of his shoulder seemed to itch, though. And not in like, a dry skin way or something akin to that. It just seemed like his skin was being super sensitive. 

God, how long had it been since he’d felt a friendly touch on his shoulder? Surely he wasn’t _that_ touch-starved. 

Okay, maybe a little.

Ever since he’d moved to L.A. and started a new job, he hasn’t really seen any of his friends or gone on any dates. He just always found excuses. He wasn’t just some aristocratic young gentlemen who had nothing to do but sit around and court ladies. He had stuff to do. Places to be.

Boxes to unpack. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet up with his friends. He did, he does, he misses them. It’s just all they can seem to talk about is all the cool places they’ve been and how well their relationships are going, and how successful they are at work, and Ryan just needed to get away. 

Even if that meant a shortage of hugs and shoulder-pats.

And it wasn’t their fault. Ryan knew this. 

So he took a job out of town. 

And maybe, just _maybe_ he found someone else he could go to for the occasional shoulder-pat. 

And perhaps even hug? 

_Nah, it’s too early for that..._ He thought, shaking his head and stowing his lunch bag in one of his desk drawers for the time being. 

C O M E T H E F I N A L T O L L O F T H E B E L L 

Shane Watched his last class leave, wishing them a good day from the door. 

“Thanks Mr. Madej,” The last student, a dark-haired sophomore named Ian shouldered his backpack and passed him on his way out the door. 

“Have a nice night,” Mr. Madej called back. He walked back to his desk and all but collapsed into the chair, as his height prevented him from sitting down as gracefully as most people could.

He allowed himself to relax back into his chair, taking a sip of his (now rather tepid) earl grey tea from the tumbler he was never seen without during the school day.

He looked around the classroom, from the large map of the roman empire on the far wall, to the one behind his desk that illustrated the spread of the black plague. 

His eyes then fell to his whiteboard, still displaying the chapter that was due next Wednesday. He sighed heavily, setting his hands on the arms of the swivel chair and pushing himself up. He walked over grabbing the rag he used as an eraser and wiping the words off. Shane let his mind wander, pondering the connotations of how easy words were to destroy before- he was forgetting something. Shit. This happens too much. 

What was it? He tried desperately to recall as he continued to clean the assignment off the board. 

_Ryan._

He forgot Ryan, godammit. 

Fretting that he was keeping the shorter man waiting, he dropped the rag thoughtlessly and rushed out the door, but then slowing to brisk walk down the hallway. 

_How did I forget? I’m the one who brought it up in the first place._

_I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind lately._

He reached the entrance to Ryan’s classroom shortly, despite all his worrying. 

Without a second thought, he put his hands on the door frame and peeked his head inside, seeing Ryan stacking textbooks onto a shelf against the far wall, his back to him. 

Suppressing a chuckle, Shane silently strode across the room, climbing onto the table nearest to Ryan and folding his legs underneath him, watching him stack the last textbook with a soft “Done.”. 

“YOOOoo!” Shane smiled impishly. 

Ryan whipped around, slamming back into the bookshelf letting out a short, high-pitched scream that tugged at Shane’s heart in a funny way. Upon Shane seeing Ryan’s back dig into the sharp corners and hard wood of the bookshelf, he cringed, already knowing that his back would be covered by bruises tomorrow. However, despite the guilt, he laughed at Ryan’s adorable reaction. 

“Jeez, dude, sorry. I wouldn’t have spooked ya so bad if I’d known you’d go into fight or flight.” Shane managed between laughs. 

“Jesus...fuck… why, man?” Ryan panted. 

“You just so focused on those textbooks, I couldn’t resist!” 

“Oh so you were jealous that the books got my undivided attention? Just ask next time. I’ll be all yours,” Ryan said, not thinking in advance about that last sentence. 

But seeing how flustered it made Shane was well worth it _._

“You-, think, I, um.” Shane looked at his shoes. “I will. Ask, that is.” Their gazes met and it was oh, so easy to get lost in the rich ambers and deep browns akin to tree bark. Now it was Ryan’s turn to glance at the ground. 

“But seriously, dude, just say ‘hi’ next time. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes-"

“Yeah, I could see the existential terror. You’re not a hard man to read.” 

“Tall Fuckin’ nerd” Ryan mumbled, shuffling over to his desk and falling into his chair. 

“Woah, pretty aggressive for, what? Day three of our friendship?”

“You deserve it.”

“I deserve it.” Shane agreed fondly, walking over and sitting on the corner of Ryan’s desk.

“You always do that.”

“Do what?” 

“Sit on desks.”

“I like to swing my legs…”

“Yeah, be careful though, you might hit someone across the room.”

“Okay, that’s just cartoonish. My legs are not _that_ long.” 

“Sure, sure.” Ryan shook his head, grinning like a madman. He just couldn't help it. Everything with Shane just seemed so safe, so warm. The jokes came easily, nothing was forced and Ryan was always happy after he talked to him. Still smiling, he grabbed his backpack, sliding in his laptop and lunch bag. 

“You walking home today Mr. Bergara?” There was a teasing lilt to Shane’s voice that made Ryan’s stomach do a little flippy-floppy dance. 

“Yep”

“I can walk you, my place is on the way.” 

Ryan stood up, looking at Shane once more. “Okay.” 

“Cool, I gotta swing by my classroom first to grab my stuff.” 

“That’s alright.” 

They walked in comfortable silence, strolling down the school hallways that the windows filled with blinding sunlight. 

Ryan followed Shane into his classroom, taking it all in wide-eyed for the first time. 

Shane, however, strolled over to the whiteboard without a second thought, picking the rag up off the floor from where he dropped it. He finished erasing the assignment, hanging up the rag on the small hook he keeps by the whiteboard, completely unaware of Ryan’s gaze. 

He went over to his desk, beginning to shove all his stuff into his messenger bag when- 

“Hey, no offence, but what the hell is this?” He looked up, startled, and followed Ryan’s outstretched arm to where he was pointing to a small cartoon in the corner of the whiteboard. 

“Oh, that’s _The Hot Doga._ ” 

“That in no way answers my question.” 

“Well what do you want to know?”

“Uh, for starters what is it, why is it, and how soon can I erase it?” 

“Well, let’s not get _aggressive_ , Ryan,”

“It looks horrifying. Also, why the hell is this weird-ass hot dog claiming to be a witch?” 

“Be civil! Her name is Pam, and she _is_ a witch!” 

“And what’s this fucking poorly drawn corn-” 

“Her name is Maizey, and she looks like that because she’s a hologram! That’s it, you need to respect the lore, I’ll tell you on the walk to your apartment.” 

“Who even draws this?”

“It’s a mystery.”

“You do it, don’t you?”

“NO, no one knows!”

“But it’s your classroom?” 

“Yeah, they come in early to do it, I leave my door unlocked for them on Wednesdays, when they update it.” 

“That’s against school policy…”

“But _Ryan_ . It’s my only source of _joy_.”

“I seriously doubt that.” 

“I think you underestimate how boring my life truly is,” 

“What, big guy, no girlfriend to keep you company?” As soon as Ryan said this, he regretted it. Of course he was curious, but he could have been _way_ more subtle about it, and that question was about as subtle as him marching in wearing his bi pride flag demanding a boyfriend. Although, now that he’s thinking about it, not the worst idea. 

“Nope, as I said, _The Hot Daga_ is my only source of joy.” 

“...That’s kinda sad.”

“It’s not that sad!”

“It’s pretty sad.” 

“Whatever. You can’t recognize good storytelling.” Turning away so Ryan couldn't see the beginnings of a smile, Shane shouldered his bag and walked out the door, not checking to see if Ryan had followed him out. 

He had. 

Shane closed and locked the door behind them and spun his keys around a few times on his index finger before sliding them into his back pocket. 

“-which is why I don’t cook anymore.”

“Oh?” Shane, realizing that Ryan had been talking this entire time, turned to look at him as they strolled into the main corridor. 

“Yeah. Hey, where’s Steven? Has he been tied up or does he cut and run at the last bell? I could understand if he doesn’t want to stay ‘round, he already has to put up with your face all day, and into the afternoon would take a real toll on anyone’s mental health.” 

“Oh, har har. First of all, he doesn’t have to put up with me all day, He chooses to. Second of all, he leaves early so he can go home and spend time with his _boyfriend_. What a loser.” 

“For… For having a boyfriend?” Shane recoiled slightly at Ryan’s question. 

“No, god no, for ditching us to go smooch everyday.”

“Oh.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. 

“So what were you saying about not cooking anymore?” 

“Were you not listening the entire time?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how Felix Immediately assumes that Shawna is implying that Ryan is in a relationship with a beaker. A chaos child.  
> Hope y'all enjoyed! 
> 
> you know I just had to find a way to fit in the hotdaga. I regret nothing. 
> 
> Next chapter is already written, so keep an eye out for that :^0


	3. Is that a real live cowboy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finds a cowboy hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going canoeing upriver tomorrow, so if I die tragically, this is my goodbye. I part from this mortal coil with regrets: such is a story unfinished.  
> At least I got to live out my fantasies as a voyageur.  
> Mmmm, pemmican.  
> This probably makes no sense to those not well-versed in french-Canadian/great lakes history. Sorry.

Friday, September 4th. 

Mr. Madej stumbled into his classroom just on time, tired from lack of sleep and frazzled from the experience of almost being late for the second time this week. (Orientation doesn’t count) 

As soon as he sat down, he pulled out his laptop and checked his school email. Sure enough, one email from administration about today’s game: Pictionary. 

Classic, perhaps even bordering on cliché, but all around a reliable game. A safe bet for the first challenge this year. 

Thinking about the upcoming competition, or rather who he is competing with, makes the corner of his mouth twitch up in a smile. 

Shane pushed away from his desk, and reached down to grab his book from where his bag was propped against it on the ground. Opening the book, a worn copy of _The Ghost Map by Steven Johnson_ that he’d had since his college years, his gaze fell upon the familiar words, even as they carried the scent of sick streets with them. He was vaguely aware of the sleepy students filtering into his room from the crowded hall, looking up to say a casual “Good Mornin’” before looking back to his book. 

Once he glanced up to find a majority of the desks filled, he slid his bookmark, and old receipt, between book pages and stood, grabbing his laptop in one hand and walked up the aisle before perching his long limbs on the stool that sat by the small table at the front of the classroom. 

“Alright… Good morning! I hope everyone came mentally prepared because today’s challenge is going to be pictionary.” 

“Why would we have to mentally prepare for pictionary?”

“Because I plan to win. Mr. Bergara is coming to our class, _and he has to lose._ ” At the time, Shane didn’t realize that what he said was such a controversial statement. The students murmured to each other, mostly confused as to why their teacher is so keen to take down the new science teacher, who a lot of them haven’t even met yet. 

Starting to pick up on this but not wanting to go through the trouble of explaining himself, he glanced down at his laptop screen and started calling out names so he could mark attendance. 

Soon enough, the bell rang and he heard a knock at the door. He set down his laptop and went to answer it, only to be confronted by the sight of Ryan, in all his short-sleeved, strong-armed, frighteningly handsome glory, flanked by about twenty-five teenagers. 

“You’re goin’ down, Madej” 

A chorus of “oooOOhs” sounded behind Shane’s back. 

-

They were nearing the end of the game- the scores were tied, everyone was on the edge of their seats, and Mr. Madej was still very much determined not to ‘go down’. 

Wait that sounds-

One of Mr. Bergara’s students was up, a curly-haired sophomore named Julian. Shane watched with apprehension, trying to figure out the word in the off-chance his class could steal. He figured it out rather quickly ( _detective brain_ ), but to be fair, It wasn’t that hard. About three seconds after it had dawned on him, a strawberry-blonde blurted it out, receiving an enthusiastic nod in return. 

_Halo_

He cheered on his own student, a tall girl (compared to other people, that is. She’s short to him) named Sophie as she drew a word from the hat. She pursed her lips, which filled Shane with dread, knowing this one would be tough. 

Ryan started the timer with a confident smirk, and the final round began. 

She started to draw something that looked like a leaf- no, leaves, is that a plate?

“Lettuce!” one of his students cried. 

Sophie shook her head. 

“Spinach!” he called out. 

Again, she shook her head. 

Think, think, _think!_ What other vegetables…? 

Sophie was stuck, with nothing else she could draw to clue them on. Another one of his kids shouted out ‘basil’, but was wrong once more. 

Shane shifted in a student desk not built for anyone with limbs, especially long ones. 

As the timer sounded, he glanced over to where Ryan was already conferring with his kids, ready to steal. He watched as a lanky black-haired boy whispered to a dark-skinned girl, who voiced his words aloud to Ryan, who simply nodded.

He turned, still with that stupid smile that seemed to light up his eyes, and announced to Sophie:

“Is it Kale?”

“Yeah,” 

_Fuck._ Ryan won. His class cheered and laughed, patting each other on the backs, hugging, y’know, the whole victory shebang. 

Shane looked down, instantly regretting all the smack he had talked that morning and throughout the week. He got up, suddenly more tired than he had been a minute ago. We waited a second for the crowd to calm down before speaking. 

“Well it is with a heavy heart-” 

“You LOST Madej!”

“Yeah, I noticed. Students, can you please control Mr. Bergara-”

At this, both the classes laughed, two students guiding Ryan to an empty student desk and gesturing for him to sit, which he did reluctantly. 

Shane stifled a giggle, the tiredness slowly ebbing. “As I was saying before I was interrupted by this small angry man,-”

“Come on, I’m not-”

“Yes you are. Shh.” Shane couldn’t help but smirk at the banter as he heard students laugh in the background. “ The bell should ring in about,” He checked his old-fashioned watch, “3 minutes so, not that anyone should, this would be the time to place bets for next week’s game, or if you wanted to plan a heist, now is the time for that.” 

Finished talking, Shane went over and sat in the desk next to Ryan. 

“I don’t think you can plan a heist in three minutes.” 

“Maybe _you_ can’t,” 

“How come I’m the one who won here, and you’re giving all the shade?” 

“That’s just how it goes, baby!”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Looks like you’re going to need some reminding of your inferiority today.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see”

Shane never got the chance to reply, looking warily at the spark of mischief in Ryan’s eyes before the bell rang. 

Ryan stood. 

“Alright, let’s Skedaddle.” Ryan said, more to himself than to his students. 

“Yeah, you better.” 

“Shut up, Shane.” 

And he was gone. 

-

“Okay class, now that we’re back, I’m going to need you to listen up- full disclosure, if anyone asks, I never put you up to this, got it?” Mr. Bergara’s class nodded, rather interested. 

“Good. Now, we don’t have much time so I’m going to shorten this- I need you guys to remind Sha- Mr. Madej that he lost constantly throughout today. We can’t let him forget that we won, in his own classroom. Please, it would bring me no end of joy if you just kept bringing this up to him- in the hall, in his class, just please do whatever you have to. Now, go, before you’re late!” 

The class shuffled out the door in a rush, excited at the idea of finally being able to make fun of a teacher to their face. 

  * 10:43 A.M. 



“And according to Rome’s creation myth, although not entirely thought of to be true, it is largely believed to stem from the true events of Remus getting killed by his brother, Romulus. Afte-”

“Kind of like how Mr. Bergara murked you in pictionary this morning?” 

“I swear to god, if _one_ more of you guys bring that up, I’ll send you to the hall like the fifth graders you are.” Shane deadpanned. Then something occurred to him. “Did Mr. Bergara put you up to this?”

“What?” “NoooOO” “Yes he did.” “He would never!” “If he did, we would never tell you” “Snitches get stitches” 

“Well looks like we’ll be having a little _talk_ with him later.” 

“That’s right, Mr Madej. Love who you love!” 

“Katherine, I will fail you.” 

“Homophobia,”

“I’m literally gay.” 

The student, Katherine, threw her hands up in a very _well-yeah-ok-that’s-not-my-fault_ gesture trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Katherine, or Kat, as she was more commonly referred to as, had already known this about Mr. Madej, because she was in the club he supervises. 

To the other students, however, this wasn’t necessarily a surprise, just more of an unexpected affirmation. 

“Now,” Mr. Madej cleared his throat, leaning back against the wall. “You children really need to pipe down. I know it’s Friday and before lunch, but let’s just focus on actually getting something done in class today.” 

“Awwwwwwwww” The class groaned collectively. 

  * Noon



“First of all, how dare you,” 

Ryan set his sandwich down onto it’s ziploc bag and feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You told all those innocent, impressionable school children to-”

“To what? To tell you the truth, Madej?” Ryan challenged. 

“-to torture a poor old teacher just for fun.” 

“I did not.” Ryan said with a straight face. 

“You just-” Shane spluttered. “You literally…” he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Ryan, and there was a glint there, not unwelcomed, but rather mischievous and strangely competitive. 

“You know,” Shane sat down in the chair to the right of Ryan, leaning towards him. “You can lie to me all you want- I can see straight through you, but you really shouldn't lie to yourself.” Shane was staring right into Ryan’s eyes, just a breath away from his face. 

“Stop hating on people’s coping mechanisms Shane.” Steven laughed, sitting down opposite of the two. 

“Yeah, Shane.” Ryan said looking long and deep into his eyes before smirking and pulling back, picking his sandwich back up. 

“I’ve been attacked. First my own pure students-”

“They’re not pure. This is high school.” 

“-My own students were turned against me by a wicked man, and next my own close good friend Mr. Steven Lim? When will this treachery end? That’s it, one more jab and I'll go live backstage in the auditorium, and become the sad theatre ghost they’re always talking about over there.” 

“Have fun with that.” 

“Cold. Ice cold.” 

“Mmmm believe it, baby.” 

“I thought I was the one with no emotions?”

“Yeah. You are, you were acting just now.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

“Is it?” Ryan smiled up at him, all malevolent sunshine. Shane felt himself smile back, felt the warmth reach his eyes. 

“God, you two are the worst.” Steven sighed. “Stop flirting,” 

They turned to him. “Shut up.” They said simultaneously, cheeks rosy. 

  * After School 



“Hey” Ryan leaned against the door frame, backpack slung over one shoulder. 

“Oh, uh. Hey.” Shane said distractedly, pushing up his glasses. 

“What’s the occasion?” Ryan asked looking pointedly at the desks that had been rearranged to form a circle around the center of the classroom, with Shane standing awkwardly in the middle. 

“I have a meeting with the officers of the Video production club- you remember? I told you about it when we got drinks.”

“I guess that means I’m walking home alone?” Ryan tried to conceal his disappointment, tried to hide how lonely that admission made him feel. 

“Well…” Shane glanced at him, attempting to catch his eye. “You could always stay. It’s not going to be super long, we’re just going over stuff, hammering out details, maybe talk about ideas for projects, so if you wanted to stick around, I don’t see why you couldn’t, I’m sure they’ll love you.” The words came out as more of a jumble then Shane intended, but Ryan still smiled. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” And in what is perhaps the boldest power-move of the century, Ryan, one hand on the strap of his backpack, sashayed across the classroom with a newfound confidence, past the circle of student desks and sat down in Shane’s desk chair. He crossed his legs. 

“Are you going-” Something on the wall behind the desk caught Ryan’s eye. “Is that a cowboy hat?” 

“No, It’s a bizarre form of extraterrestrial life.” Shane said sarcastically. 

“Why do you have a cowboy hat at work?”

“Are you saying you don’t?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“I don’t know if we can be friends then.” 

Ryan frowned, genuinely torn-up about this. Then, Shane watched his eyes light up, sparkling in the golden sunlight streaming through the window. 

“What about a compromise?” 

“A compromise? What do you mean?” 

Ryan got up from the chair, reaching for where the hat hung on his tippy-toes. _Adorable. Wait, no._

He then snatched the hat off the wall, plopping it down on his own head. The hat was, of course, entirely too big for him, and the brim dipped below his eyes before he pushed it back, and flashed Shane a smile that made his chest flush with warmth, and he found himself grinning back, almost instinctively. 

“You look….” _Incredibly cute. Suffocatingly handsome. Frustratingly charming._ “...Ridiculous.” _Shit._

“I’m your Huckleberry.” Ryan sat back down, kicking back and crossing his hands behind his head. 

“Mhm. I bet.” 

“You doubtin’ me Madej?” 

“Of course not, I just-”

“Is that a REAL LIVE COWBOY?” Shane turned around. 

“Hey Kat.” He said tiredly. “Find a seat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worth mentioning: The Ghost map is a real book (I know because I read it) and is actually not about Ghosts at all (Which is why Shane's reading it). It's about the 1854 cholera epidemic in London, and the dude who basically founded the study of epidemiology in a week. He's pretty rad.  
> If you don't want to read it (which you should, it's pretty interesting stuff) just youtube search 'extra history broad street pump' they have a neat couple of videos that sum it up. Can get pretty grody though. I mean, it's disease. 
> 
> Stay safe, Love y'all!!


	4. That's kinda gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's a thief and Shane's a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I survived my trip upriver, but I also got very sunburned. I’m also in Wisconsin now??? I’ll tell Lake Michigan you guys said hi. 
> 
> P.S. - A lot of the alibi answers are things that I’ve actually heard which is ligit wild yo  
> That’s just how the kids be talkin’ now

“Any questions?”

“Yeah, why’s Mr. Bergara here?” 

“Because he’s a public menace.”

“Mr. Madej said I could stay because we usually walk home together.”

“Awwwwwwwww!”

“You guys are so cute.” Grinned an officer named Josephine. 

“That’s kinda gay.” Remarked Felix, who is a known gay himself, so he should know. 

“I’m literally-” Shane sighed. He loved what he did but there were some days where...-nevermind. 

“Anyway, you guys get a head start brainstorming themes and topics. Make sure to reach out to members from last year, see if they’re interested in doing it this year too. I’ll get the posters printed by Monday so you can swing by in the morning and pick up your share to hang up. Now you’re dismissed. Get out of here. Skedattle.” He waved his hands, shooing students out the door. 

After the last students were ushered out, Shane turned to Ryan. 

“Really? I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“A reputation for what? Being a dork?” Shane looked at him as Ryan pushed the brim of the hat, _Shane's_ hat, back above his eyes. “I can say that, I kicked your ass at pictionary.”

“With the help of your class.”

“Disrespect. I’ll report you.” 

“You’ll report me? After all the shit _you’ve_ pulled today?” Shane rolled his eyes. 

“Aw, that’s cute but you can’t stay angry at a boy in a cowboy hat.” 

_You really can’t,_ Shane’s mind chipped in helpfully. “Just grab your stuff and let’s go. And put the hat back, it’s still mine, I don’t care how cute you look in it.” _Well shit. Just gonna let that one slide, huh?_

“Sure, sure.” Ryan’s eyes were practically glowing in the golden sunlight, framed by the crows-feet that he got when he was truly happy. He placed the hat gingerly back on the hook and swung his backpack onto his shoulder. 

“Let’s go, Huckleberry.” Shane turned and started walking to keep himself from staring. He distantly felt himself smile, something he was starting to do a lot more sense he met Ryan. 

  * _Five minutes prior, in the hallway_



Felix was the last student out of the classroom, stumbling a bit at the threshold and walking over to where the group had gathered. 

“So they’re in love,” He started pushing his way between Josephine and everyone’s favorite friend-with-a-car, Carlos. 

“Yeah.” Josephine confirmed.

“Big-time.” Shawna said, sneaking up behind them, startling about everyone but Felix, who knew her too well to be startled. 

“...So do we do anything about it? We don’t know Mr. Bergara super well, but he seems pretty chill. What we do know, however, is that Mr. Madej will never act on his feelings unless it is very heavily implied to that dumb-dumb.” Kat stated. 

“But do we even know if Mr. Bergara if gay? I mean-” Felix glanced at Shawna. “He kind of gives me frat-bro vibes and I mean, for god’s sake, he coaches basketball and teaches fuckin’ chem.” 

“All valid points,” Carlos offered, “But have you considered the way he looks at Mr. Madej? Because speaking as a heterosexual myself, I can confirm that there is no heterosexual explanation for that.” 

“Hey, speak of Lucifer,” Kat said, glancing at the classroom door.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not- Oh shit, someone get this.” They watched their teachers exit the class, Shane grinning widely and Ryan laughing at something he just said, the pair practically radiating happiness. 

Shane noticed them and stopped. “What are you guys loitering here for? Don’t you have rides?” 

They all pointed at Carlos. 

“...Fair enough.” Shane grabbed Ryan by shoulders and shoved him gently to get him to walk, following behind. 

“C’mon, Ryan. And you all-” He turned around, “Get home and do your schoolwork.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Madej.” Josephine spoke up on their behalf. 

Shane gave them one last exasperated but fond look before walking off with Ryan. 

The group watched them round the corner before turning to each other. 

“First name basis, pretty spicy if you ask me.” 

“No one asked you, Felix” 

“Please tell me you got that.” Carlos said to Shawna. 

“Of course. You know how me and Felix are about blackmail. I recorded it all on my phone.” 

“Great! Send it to the group chat so I can drop it into my editing software. I’ll do the first cuts.” That got the other student’s attention. 

“Carlos, what _ever_ do you mean?” 

“If Mr. Madej needs proof to ask out Mr. Bergara, we’ll give it to him. I’m thinking a compilation of everytime we can get of them staring at each other with heart eyes.”

“I’m down.” Kat agreed. 

“You think it’ll work?” Josephine asked. 

“I think so. If he can’t see it, we can show it to him, y’know?”

“It could be fun.” Shawna mused. 

“Blackmail!” Felix exclaimed excitedly. 

“Kind of, I mean, you’ve got the spirit, buddy.” 

**Thursday, October 1st.**

“Hey” Shane looked at Ryan suddenly from where he was sitting atop his desk, swinging his legs. 

“Hey yourself.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. ‘Hey’ is, and will _never_ be a verb.” Shane said in an unplaceable accent. 

“Okay, calm down princess. It’s just a phrase. What were you going to say?” 

“Oh, yeah, that.” Shane said distractedly, making Ryan wheeze with laughter. 

“Hey-”

“Dangerous territory already.” 

“I haven’t even said anything yet...”

“It’s more about the vibes you’re giving off.”

“You’re being very rude considering what I’m trying to ask you here.” 

“My hand in marriage? I’m sorry but my parents would _never_ approve of a rapscallion like you.”

“Marriage? You wish, Bergara. But, no. I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me at this Italian place five blocks from here.”

“What’s the difference?” 

“Between two bros grabbing dinner at a small Italian restaurant on a weekday and marriage? Uh, paperwork, I guess.” Ryan laughed and closed his laptop. 

“Sure, I’ll go. But on one condition- you get something with garlic. I need to prove you’re not a vampire.”

“Still on about that?” 

“It’s spooky season. That’s fair.” 

“Okay, first of all, it’s literally October first, calm down. Second of all, I’m not a vampire. Do you know how hard that would be in L.A.? It’s so sunny here.” 

“I agree but I will not resend my previous statement.” 

Shane tutted, standing up and grabbing his bag. “Let’s go, then, Huckleberry. We're burnin’ daylight.” 

Ryan smiled, completely smitten, and followed him out the door. 

-

“So if the fate of our dignity and collective reputation rests on a Frisbee tournament, should we, like, practice?” Ryan said, reaching for his water glass after successfully confirming Shane is not a vampire. 

Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, hey, I’m in pretty good shape-”

“Your humility never ceases to amaze me.” 

“-But I can’t throw a frisbee worth a damn, and you’re... eighty percent noodle limb.”

“You can say floppy. I don’t mind.” 

“You’re floppy, Shane.”

“Nevermind, that kinda stings.” Shane winced. Ryan chuckled, and leaned forwards, resting his arms on the table. 

“But no, seriously, can we find time to practice? I’m planning on winning this thing.” 

“Sure, does Saturday work?” 

“Yeah. The park north of here with the field?” 

“Sounds good, I’ll bring the Frisbee.” Shane leaned back in his chair as the waiter set down the bill in front of him, but Ryan swiped it. Shane gave him a questioning look. 

“You bought drinks, remember?”

“That was almost a month ago.” 

“Well, I still owe you, and besides, this dinner has been more beneficial to me because I have proved that Shane Madej is not a vampire.” 

“Congratulations about that, by the way. You have proved what is common knowledge.”

“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan smiled. 

**Friday, October 2nd.**

Shane checked his watch one last time. “Ready? Okay, let’s hit the road.” He got up from the stool at the front of the classroom, opening the door and beckoning his homeroom to follow him. Closing the door behind them to keep out any stray mischief makers, he caught up to his students and led the charge to Mr. Bergara’s room.

That’s right, today is Friday, and you bet Shane is going to win a game of competitive Alibi. 

However that works. 

He knocked on Ryan’s door. 

“You ready to lose your dignity, Mr. Bergara?” He grinned. 

“If that’s what it takes to win.” 

Ryan stood aside and Shane and his entourage entered the classroom. They all gathered in a circle. 

“So here's the rules: It’s a standard game of alibi, but there will be a detective from each class. We go around the circle twice, everyone states where they were on the night of the crime, whoever’s guilty changes it the second time, and the first detective to figure it out takes the cake. Now, detectives, go out in the hall so Tom, who will not be playing, can choose someone to be guilty.” 

They all closed their eyes, and Ryan felt a tap on his shoulder. 

This should be fun. 

They all looked up, and the two detectives came back in. 

“The crime…” Tom paused, thinking. “Is that someone stole Mr. Madej’s cowboy hat, the one he keeps behind his desk.” 

Shane gasped, for affect. 

The detectives made their rounds, and everyone stated what they were doing on the night of the crime. Highlights include: 

“Fixing the Zelda timeline.”

“Making an origami friend.” 

“Holding Ben & Jerry hostage.”

“Selling my Gucci slides.” 

“Stealing Dan’s Gucci Van’s” 

And, who can forget, “Stabbing Caesar with my boys.” 

When they got to Shane, he claimed he was “Picking Huckleberries,” Which definitely did _not_ make Ryan blush. 

In retaliation, Ryan figured, why not confess to taking what Shane values most? 

So, when the detectives asked the first time, he was “Stealing Mr. Madej’s cowboy hat.” 

Ryan will never forget the scandalized look Shane gave him. 

The second time he was asked, however, he was “Stealing Mr. Madej’s hat.”

Ryan hoped his detective would notice the change, but also hoped it was subtle enough that Shane’s detective would not notice. 

He was right. 

He saw recognition flash in his student’s eyes, whereas Shane’s was focused on a culprit opposite of him when he gave his final testimony. 

And when his name was called, he confessed, and the sheer look of _betrayal_ on Shane’s face, simultaneously made him laugh and feel a small spark of guilt about a made-up scenario. Jesus. He _really_ has it bad. 

“You son of a snake!” Shane said with eyes narrowed to glinting crescents. 

Ryan just smiled at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a bit shorter buuuut guys it's a good one ( •̀ ω •́ )


	5. Shane Madej: Now With Pants!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane finally puts on pants, pray for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!  
> Yes I know this chapter in on the shorter side (´。＿。｀) however, the next chapter is longer and there are revelations to be had here.

**Saturday, October 3rd**

“Well I feel dumb,” Shane exclaimed from where he stood over Ryan, who was crouched over, tying his shoe. Ryan gave the knot one last tug and looked up at him. 

“I would feel dumb too if I had seven feet of legs out in the wind.” Ryan stood up, suppressing a giggle at the affronted look on Shane’s face. 

“You’re the one who said to wear shorts!” He protested. 

“Yeah, because it’s L.A. and eighty-five degrees out, and we’re going to be running around after a Frisbee. Are you sure those shorts are a medium?”

“Yes!” Shane said, exasperated. “They are just slightly shorter on me because I have long legs! Why do you care?” 

“You look like Jack Skellington.” 

Shane hit him over the head with the Frisbee he was holding. “I will take that as a compliment, seeing that it is spooky season.” 

“You two _do_ have similar skin tones,” Ryan mused. 

Shane glared at him, glarefully. 

Ryan started walking out into the green-space, beckoning Shane to follow behind him. He stopped for a second. Then, unexpectedly, he turned around and whipped the frisbee in Shane's direction. It traveled about four feet before curving at a ninety-degree angle and landing in the grass eight feet to the left of him. 

“Fuck.” 

“Wow, I guess you weren't kidding about not being able to throw a Frisbee.” 

“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan walked over and picked up the plastic disk-shaped traitor. He threw it at Shane again, more accurately this time, and watched in despair as Shane fumbled the catch horribly. It landed in the grass at his feet. 

They both paused, looking at each other. 

“...I guess we both need to work on our Frisbee skills.” Shane conceded. They laughed. 

“Then let’s hit the Grass.”

“...Literally?”

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“I know.” Shane said with a smile that melted Ryan's heart a little bit. 

-

Shane picked up the Frisbee one last time, exhausted from chasing after it and his many failed attempts to catch it. 

“You wanna go get coffee?” Ryan panted as Shane sat down next to him in the grass. 

“Hhhhrng coffee.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” 

-

“Have you thought about Halloween yet?” Shane sipped his black coffee.

“Good to see you verbal again.” 

“I’m going to ignore that, have you thought about Halloween yet?” 

“Like in general? All the time.” Yeah. Give Shane a taste of his own smart-ass medicine. 

“Uh, love that for you, but I was subtly asking you if you know what you’re dressing up as for Halloween at school.”

“I didn’t know that’s something that teachers did here.” Ryan looked up from his coffee cup. 

“Yeah, the school’s celebrating on Friday because Halloween falls on a Saturday, so instead of doing a rival competition during homeroom there’s going to be a costume contest.” 

“Oh, sick. What are you going as?” 

“Well, usually I’ll go as everyone’s favorite eighteenth century american politician, just to appease the children, but I feel ready to shake things up.” 

“...Eighteenth Century?”

“Hamilton.” 

“Ooh, yeah.” 

“So, do you have any thoughts, Ry?” 

“Not often.”

“Self burn!”

“Yeah. For Halloween, I don’t really know.”

“You still have a while.”

“Yeah.” Suddenly Ryan’s eyes glowed with an idea, “Wait, what if we were both cowboys! You already have that hat, and I can get my own, it’ll be perfect!” 

Shane grinned wickedly. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. A viable historical reference.” 

“Right?!”

“Let’s go costume shopping then!”

A beat of silence. 

“...Right now?” Ryan leaned sideways in his chair and gave Shane’s shorts a pointed look before flicking his gaze up to meet Shane’s eyes. 

Shane blushed, “Look, I mean, we can swing by my place so I can change first, or we can find another time…” 

“No, let’s stop by your house so _you_ can change out of your _shorts_.” 

“This is harassment.” 

“No, really! What are you sitting around for? Let’s go!” Ryan stood, taking one last swig of tepid coffee. 

Shane paused. “You’re serious?”

Ryan blinked. “Yes, dipshit. C’mon let’s go!”

“Mmmm _Ryan_ ,” Shane said, “You know I love it when you call me dipshit.”

“I-, _don’t_ , I can’t even with you. You should be ashamed, shame on you. The nerve. The _audacity_.” Ryan felt like he should be humiliated by this exchange, but it’s hard to feel humiliated when he was watching Shane laugh so hard that he fell out of his chair. 

It’s what he deserves. 

  * Shane’s house, 15 or so minutes later



Ryan peered through the doorway, taking in the view of Shane’s small but cozy home. 

“You can come inside, y’know.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Ryan awkwardly stepped over the threshold, taking off his shoes. 

“I’ll be a second, I’m going to go change. You can just sit and do Ryan-things, or look around if you want, I don’t care.” Ryan glanced up to see Shane’s tall (definitely not attractive, goddammit Ryan this is your _coworker_ ) frame disappear down the hall even as he spoke. 

Ryan hesitated before deciding, _hey, what the heck, he said it was ok,_ and stepped into Shane's living room. It was small, just an overly-stuffed bookshelf, a raggedy grey couch and a T.V. on the far wall. 

Ryan immediately gravitated towards the bookshelf, and upon closer inspection, he saw that about a third of what he’d mistaken for odd books (Well, those were present as well,) were actually dozens of DVDs. He glanced through the titles, seeing a few that he recognized as good movies: _Toy Story, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Get Out_ and _The Fugitive_ among others. 

Ryan smiled. A man after his own heart. 

He turned his gaze to the assorted knick-knacks that rested on the shelf alongside the books and movies. He gingerly picked up a small piece of what appeared to be multi-colored blown glass. He tilted it in his hand, the edge catching in the sunlight that came in through the window on the far wall. The glass practically glowed, causing fragments of rich color to dance around the room and across the bookshelf. He heard a door open down the hall. 

And, perhaps he should have put the small piece of glass down, but he was too transfixed on the shards of colorful light it was projecting around the room as he turned it in his hands. It almost looked like stained glass, but there was no seems, all one spiraling piece. 

And, when Shane walked in (Now with pants!) all he saw was Ryan: Ryan, holding the rainbow glass trinket he bought at a pride festival a few summers ago. Ryan, standing in a puddle of sunlight, staring at the small piece of magic he seemed to hold. Ryan, who turned the glass slowly, causing rainbow fragments of light to twist across the walls and floor. Ryan, with the same lights spotted across his face and chest, sparking in his eyes and caught in his hair. Ryan, who didn’t notice Shane come in. Ryan, who stopped Shane dead in his tracks, pausing in the doorway to gaze upon him in wonder.

Ryan, with his halo of transfigured sunshine, who, in that moment, Shane fell in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3  
> Stay safe!


	6. God Judges the Costume Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane sees a dove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to my cat Artemis because whenever I sit down to write, she suddenly needs all the love/attention/cuddles. I’m currently typing around her because he has both her paws resting on the keyboard, She’s basically my co-author.

Ryan turned to look at Shane one more time. 

“You good there, big guy?”

Shane snapped back into focus, zoning in on the thrift store around him. “Yeah, Yeah. For sure. Just a little sleepy, I guess.” 

“Do you need to go home?”

“No! I mean, no, we still need to find you a cowboy hat.” He smiled down at Ryan, something softening in his eyes. And _yeah_ , he knows it’s not entirely nice of him to keep spacin’ out on the little guy, but he can’t stop thinking about the epiphany he had not even an hour ago. 

Because he was in love with Ryan Bergara. 

It didn’t surprise him, he was kind of expecting it, but he didn’t expect it to crash down on him so suddenly, so soon. He thought he’d have more time to sort through all his warm, squishy, feelings about the smaller man. 

“Ok, you’ve zoned out again but on my face this time. Should I be worried?” 

“An unconscious effort to not look at your face when I look at your face.”

“...Tall clown man.”

“Oof, Ry, that one stings a bit.”

Ryan and Shane continued walking, side by side down the aisles of the thrift shop, looking for anything that could constitute a practical cowboy costume. Shane glanced to his left. 

“Oh, hey! This could work.” He pulled a distressed dark brown leather jacket from the rack. 

“What era of cowboy are we going for? Because that jacket’s giving me more _Brokeback Mountain_ cowboy vibes.”

Shane re-examined it from an arm's length away. “I suppose. I was aiming more for old school, but to be honest cowboy fashions have not changed much in the last 100 or so years. Still just denim and leather.” 

“Kinky”

“...Keep that out of this. Please.” Shane gave an overly dramatic grimace. Ryan laughed until he wheezed. 

“Let's look for boots, maybe we’ll have better luck there.” Ryan suggested as he straightened up (Only physically, not metaphorically, thank god.) and walked towards the shoe aisle. 

“Ok. Do you think we’ll find cowboy boots in a thrift store?”

“In L.A.? Anything’s possible.”

“True,” Shane followed Ryan. 

He looked around idly, until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

“Alternatively, Ry, you could wear these,” Shane calmly holds up one of a pair of six-inch-heels with a dappled pink leopard print. 

“Go to hell. Goodbye.” Ryan turned and started walking away. 

“Hold on,” Shane put the shoe back, “I was kidding, Ryan! Ry! Come back here!” Shane half-jogged after him. 

A moment of silence passed. 

“...Look, I’m sorry.”

“Unforgivable.” 

“Why?”

“Well first off, those shoes don’t go with _anything_ I own. Secondly, I have worn heels once for a dare and it was one of the most painful experiences of my life and those were only three inches. How dare you wish that suffering upon me?”

“Dude…” Shane looked Ryan in the eye, “...It was a joke,”

“In poor taste.”

“Okay. Jeez.” Shane paused. “Okay. What can I do to fix this?”

Ryan turned away, thinking. After a second, he took off down the aisle with an air of excitement, into the main part of the store. He then stopped, his back to Shane, and picked something up. 

“You can buy me this.” Ryan turned, holding up a pitch-black cowboy hat, offering it to Shane. 

Shane smiled, taking it. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

**Friday, October 30th, All Hollow’s eve (Well, the day before, but just roll with it, ok?)**

Felix weaved through the crowd, gathering up the sweeping fabric of his tailcoat in one arm in an attempt to get other people to stop stepping on it. He re-adjusted the top hat on his head, clearing his line of sight and almost immediately spotting Shawna and Carlos on the other side of the busy school lobby. 

He ducked between a couple dressed as Jessie and James from the infamous Team Rocket, and made his way over. 

He examined their costumes. “Really, Shawna?” 

Shawna looked down to where she had scotch-taped a piece of paper to her t-shirt that read ‘student loans’ in big sharpie-letters. 

“Is it not scary?” 

“I’ve been saying this man, she’s not wrong,” Carlos, who was dressed as a low-budget princess (Mostly for irony, but hey, he’s got a magic wand, so better not mess with him and his hot pink dress that was showing way too much leg hair) conceded, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, I’ll give it points for creativity. Thin ice, though. Thin ice.” 

Shawna turned to look at him, “God, you’re dramatic” She concluded, turning back, just in time to catch a glimpse of one of the front doors being thrown open. 

“Speak of Lucifer.” She said under her breath.

“Again, that’s not how-” Carlos was cut off by a slap on the arm and wild pointing to direct his gaze towards the doors. 

“Oh Shit, I’m dreaming,” Carlos said in disbelief. Shawna pinched him, eyes staying glued towards the doors. “Ouch,” he said halfheartedly. 

“Shut up, Felix,” Shawna waved a hand in front of Felixs’ face, “look at this!”

He raised his head, seeing two familiar-looking cowboys walk through the lobby while the crowd of teenagers parted for them, not unlike the red sea. 

“They’re… both …… cowboys,” Felix blinked. “That’s so cute. Jesus. I want that. Can I have a boyfriend who will dress up as a cowboy with me?” 

“Carlos,” Shawna turned to him, “Please tell me you were recording, look at how they’re fucking _looking_ at each other.” 

“Yeah, of course I’ve been recording. C’mon.” They all looked back to where cowboy-Ryan was giving cowboy-Shane the softest, warmest, most affection-filled gaze imaginable. 

“I mean, I’ve known Mr.Madej for almost four years, and I already just _knew_ that bitch was in love, but now we see that Mr. Bergara is completely smitten, it’s full steam ahead, baby,” Shawna said, grinning. Carlos nodded along sagely. 

They heard footsteps approach them from behind. 

“Sweet Jesus, oh my lord this is happening. I see Carlos recording, we need to make sure this is part of the slide show that plays at their wedding, good _god_.” Kat said in a daze, standing on her tip-toes to try to get a better look at the cowboys who were now a while down the hall. 

“Agreed,” Felix said. “Normally I try to stay out of your shit if it doesn’t involve blackmail, but they are so in love, good lord.” 

“Right?!?” Kat turned back to the group. Carlos stopped recording, and the warning bell to get to homeroom went off, and the crowd scattered like they were in a John Mulaney bit. 

-

“So it’s outside?” Ryan asked, sparing a glance at the combined mass of Shane and his homerooms as they guided them down the hall. 

“Yeah, usually we hold the competition in the gym, but it’s nice out today, so administration figured, ‘hey, Why not?’ and here we are.” Shane adjusted his tan cowboy hat, tilting it back on his head. 

“Oh- and one more thing,” He suddenly remembered. “Teachers, those who wear costumes anyway, don’t have to compete but are usually pulled in anyway.”

“Into the costume contest?”

“Yeah.”

“Who judges this?”

“God,-”

“GOD?!” 

“ _As I was saying,_ God, I can’t believe that I forgot to tell you more about this on Saturday.”

“Yeah, you idiot. Answer the question, though, please.” Ryan turned and caught a flash of something warm flicker through Shane’s amber eyes that seemed to cast a glow throughout the noisy hallway. 

“Y’know, just the usual suspects, Mr. Elenbach, the student council presidents, and the theatre director because? Like? Costume expertise? I’ve never argued against it. Seems fair.” Shane looked ahead, to where they were now in sight of the main doors.

“God is very just, yes.”

“Shut up. Like you would know God, You’re a chemistry teacher.”

“Calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“Sure. Let’s just hope God is fair because cowboys are always a win.”

“There's no accounting for taste, y’know.” 

“C’mon, Shane. Who doesn't like cowboys?”

“Well-read homophobes.”

“Pardon?”

“Well-” Shane fidgeted, wringing his hands, “Because, well, like a lot of the true cowboys were gay or LGBTQ+.” 

“Neat.”

“That’s all? Neat?” 

“Well I’m both gay _and_ Mexican so I’m the ultimate cowboy when it comes to historical accuracy.” Ryan turned to give a trouble-making student behind him a death glare. 

“I’m... so in love.”

“What did you say?” Ryan turned back to him distractedly. 

“Uhh” Shane pointed above Ryan’s head, “THERE’S A DOVE!”

Ryan jumped, sharply inclining his head to look above him. He paused. “No there’s not?” He looked again at Shane. “Oh, uh, it was probably just a reflection or something. God that’s embarrassing. Sorry.” Shane mumbled in response. 

What Shane did not know, however, is that despite the chatter of the hall, Ryan _had_ heard the fond declaration he whispered under his breath. He smiled, gently, almost softly. 

“It’s alright dude. It was probably the sunlight on your watch or something.” Ryan pushed open the door to outside, standing beside Shane as he held it open for their classes. 

-

“The only slots we have left are for the couples costume category,” Mr. Elenbach patiently explained. “All the others are full. If you want to compete, it has to be couples. I’m sorry.”

“Couples?” Ryan said in disbelief. 

“Yes. Again, I’m sorry, but it's not like you aren’t dressed for it. Plenty of friends do the couples category, as well, so don’t feel weird. You just got here too late.” 

Shane looked to Ryan with a carefully neutral expression. “I mean, we are wearing matching costumes, it could be fun.” 

“Ah, screw it, why not? Let’s do it.” Ryan decided. 

“So you will compete?” Mr. Elenbach clarified. 

“Yes.” Shane grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I hate Cliches  
> Also Me: What if, there was, only one (1) slot left, and it was for CoUpLEs  
> Me: ...  
> Me: Sounds like a fucking plan


	7. Fucking Whatever, Horseshoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who says that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For peeps who are not woke enough/ not cowboy fam: I’m your huckleberry = I’m the man you're looking for. It’s a tombstone quote, but also something Ryan told Shane a few chapters ago, which is why he keeps calling him ‘Huckleberry’. He’s agreeing that Ryan’s his man. You’re my Huckleberry. 
> 
> just gonna leave that there

**Friday, October 30th, moments later**

“You ready, Huckleberry?”

“As I’ll ever be. Should we coordinate something, y’know?” 

“Mmm.” Shane thought for a moment. “Probably.”

“Well what should we do?”

“We could like, tip our hats to the audience, y’know…” Shane mimicked ducking his head, right hand tilting the brim of his tan cowboy hat down before straightening up. 

“I like that. Yeah, let’s do that. You take the left side, I’ll do the right. Sound good?”

“Yeah, c’mon I think we're next.”

They walked up to where the crowd had parted to make a circle for the contestants to show off their costumes, just as another couple dressed as two Kyoshi warriors from Avatar walked away. 

“Next, all the way from the old west, please welcome Mr. Bergara and Mr. Madej!”

Ryan and Shane both stepped forward, waving out to the crowd. They tipped their hats to their respective sides, and reconvened in the middle, where Shane slung a friendly arm around Ryan’s shoulders. 

“And one more thing-” The judge asked. 

  * **The same day, After the contest**



“I blame you, y’know.” 

“What?”

“You made us lose.” 

“ _Slander_.” Shane protested, “Your statement is invalid.”

“At the end of the contest, one of the judges asked us what are cowboy names were-”

“I don’t see how this is relevant I-”

“And you said _Horseshoes,”_

“Again, I don’t see why that’s the problem.”

“You said your cowboy name was _Horseshoes.”_

 _“_ Well, yeah,”

“WHO SAYS THAT?!”

“Me, apparently.”

“God,”

“We’ve already established he’s not here, Ryan.”

“Fucking whatever, _Horseshoes.”_

 _“_ I don’t see what the problem is? I know for a fact cowboys used horseshoes all the time.”

“That doesn’t constitute a name.”

“Sure it does!”

“I'm going to start calling you microwave then.”

“And I bet there’s a rich and celebrated lore behind that choice, there’s-”

“Speak up. I can’t hear you over your bullshit.” 

Shane blinked. “Well I just wanted to make you proud, Ryan.” He mumbled, looking down at the floor of the staff room, where they were currently eating lunch. 

“Don’t you start playing the victim, Horseshoes, don’t you start with me.” Ryan pointed an accusatory finger at Shane, electing to ignore Steven’s laughter in the background. 

Steven wiped a tear from his eye, looked at them and fondly exclaimed, “Ah, _marriage_.” while smiling uncontrollably. 

Ryan looked over at Steven, embarrassed. “Shut up, why don’t you?”

Steven just shook his head and went back to his lunch. 

  * **After school**



“Hey, Horseshoes!” Ryan jogged to catch up with Shane, trying to keep pace with his ridiculously long legs. 

“I see you’re still not over that.”

“How could I be? You lost us the round!”

“No, Ryan, we lost the moment that couple came dressed as Team Rocket.” 

“No, I’m pretty sure we lost when you announced that your name was ‘Horseshoes’.”

“You’re just jealous your name wasn’t as cool as mine, partner.” Shane said, drawing out the vowels like he should be sitting on a porch in the middle of the prairie somewhere at sundown. 

“I’m going to push you off a cliff.”

“Death threats, huh... Wait, Ryan, wait up! Where are you going?” 

“Somewhere away from you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Bet.”

And that was the last time Shane ever saw Ryan. 

Kidding, Kidding. 

Shane caught up to Ryan, who slowed to walk by his side. And they walked all the way to their homes, two smitten cowboys strolling down the street, bending the fading sunlight to linger a moment longer in their eyes. 

They said goodnight, hesitantly. 

And the sunlight faded, giving way to faint stars and a cool, dark breeze. 

A stray leaf tumbled across the street, like a lonely whisper. 

**Saturday, October 31st**

Ryan passed the kitchen counter for the seventh time, sparing a glance at his phone before looking away harshly, pausing to fidget with his hands before turning sharply and continuing to pace. 

_I should just call him already,_ he thought _, Before it gets too late._ A reasonable idea, but a small part of Ryan’s mind nagged him: _He won’t pick up. It’s Halloween. He’s probably at a party, he doesn’t have time for you just because you’re lonely. You’ll come off as clingy, way too dependent._

Ryan shook his head, trying to clear away his overwhelming thoughts. He stood still, glaring at the pattern of the kitchen tile between his feet before glazing at his phone again. He then, suddenly, before his doubts could catch up with him, growled and lunged at the counter and picked the phone up, pressing the call button where Shane’s contact was already pulled up. 

Hearing the empty ring, his anxious thoughts came crashing back to him- _He doesn’t want to hear from you! Just end it now, save yourself the embarrassment of getting turned down! See! He won’t pick up, What were you thinking! Oh god, oh god oh god oh god-_

“Hey Huckleberry, what’s up?”

“Oh, um,” Ryan was taken aback by Shane’s voice, sounding tinny and way too far-off for Ryan’s liking. “I was just wondering what you were up to?” 

“Right now, or later?”

“Both, really.”

“Well, right now I’m eating lunch, and later I’m just going to be handing out candy. Why?” 

“Well, I was wondering… I mean, I was just curious.” 

“...Okay man.”

“Yeah, it’s whatever.” _Ask him now, before you think about it,_ “Hey I was wondering if…” _Too late, you’ve thought about it, this is a bad idea,_ “... If you wanted to hang out today? It’s ok if you say no.”

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want to come over to my house? We can watch a few old horror movies if that works.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great! What time works?”

“I’m not doing anything, so just come over whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“Sounds good! I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Ryan smiled to himself. “Okay. see you.”

-

Shane opened the door. “Hey, Huckleberry. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Probably because I called you and told you I was coming.” Ryan grinned and stepped inside. 

“Nice hat, by the way.” Shane smirked as Ryan passed him. 

“Thanks, a cute boy bought it for me.” He tipped his pitch-black cowboy hat at Shane.

“How nice of him.”

“I thought so too. What did you want to watch?” Ryan wandered over to Shane’s bookshelf, looking over his DVD collection and smiling upon seeing a familiar glass trinket. 

“I don’t know. Want to start with a classic?” Shane walked up behind Ryan, reaching over his shoulder to tap on the spine of _Nightmare on Elm Street._

Ryan inclined his head to meet Shane’s eyes. “I don’t see why not.” Shane smiled, a soft, private smile that made his amber eyes shine like a piece of polished sea glass held up to the sun. 

Shane pulled the DVD from the shelf, opening it and going to put the disc into the player. Ryan walked over and sat on the couch, taking off his cowboy hat and setting it on the coffee table. Shane joined him on the couch, shortly after, and they settled down leaving a reasonable amount of space between them, but still remaining close enough to share a blanket. 

The beginning credits rolled by, and by the time the movie started, Ryan was already enraptured. Not by the film, though, (a rarity for him) but by the man sitting next to him.

They had closed the curtains to darken the room (it was much too bright out for a horror movie) and the light from the T.V. flickered along Shane’s cheekbones, making him look like an old washed-out Polaroid, nostalgic in that kind of gentle, yearning, but somehow warm way. He looked like he was a treasured memory viewed again and again after many years of longing. 

_I’ll remember this,_ Ryan vowed to himself. _Even if I live forever, I’ll remember this moment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to drag you through Ryan’s anxiety and two people trying to make plans over the phone it's called realism in fiction calm down


	8. Ah, yes, the children I ordered are here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amazon fulfills it's oath to deliver Shane it's firstborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY Y'ALL PLEASE READ- know that today is NOT Saturday, but I'm leaving for the middle of bumfuck nowhere Montana tomorrow before the sunrises and there will be no wifi, and will be unable to update/write. I'm afraid because I will be there for five unholy days, I won't have a chapter ready by next week, but I'll still try to give you some head cannons or something <3 <3 
> 
> Equally Important: I realized that you guys don't know so I feel the need to tell you that when I write this on google docs, I write it 100% in comic sans. Just in case you were wondering. I do. 100%.

**Saturday, October 31st, about 4 hours later**

Ryan glanced away from the movie’s ending credits to where Shane was sitting, somehow barely three inches from him, although Ryan had started sitting about a foot away. Probably says a lot about him. He’ll think about it later, though. Sometime when he can’t feel the warm of Shane’s ribs as he breaths, or how dorky he looks with his stupid giraffe-legs all folded up on the couch. 

“What time is it?”

“Oh, um.” Shane reached over, back to the other side of the couch, toppling over until he was lying on his stomach, stretching above his head to grab his phone. He glanced at it. “It’s almost four”

Ryan scoffed. “Dramatic, much?”

“Yes.” Shane answered as he rolled off the couch, tearing away the blanket he and Ryan were sharing. “Kind of you to notice.” he grinned up at Ryan from the floor, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“Sure thing, Big Guy.”

“I’m not even tha-” Shane was interrupted by a knock at the door. He looked away, confused. Ryan, seeing this, kindly reminded him: “It’s Halloween, dumbass.”

“Ah, yes. The children I ordered are here!” Shane said enthusiastically, sending Ryan into a fit of laughter. 

Shane struggled to his feet, discarding the blanket and picking up the bowl of candy that he had set on the kitchen counter. 

Ryan got up and bent over to grab the blanket, hearing Shane open the door to a chorus of small voices say the customary ‘Trick or Treat!’. Ryan turned back to the couch, setting down the blanket and listening to Shane greet the children, and although Ryan couldn't see him, he could tell that Shane was smiling. 

Shane closed the door and put down the bowl of candy. “Tremendous help you were.” He commented offhandedly. 

“Bitch?”

“Well, you know the only reason I invited you over is so you could help me pass out candy.” Shane teased. 

“I’m hurt. Genuinely.” 

Shane relented. Even he could not stand up against Ryan’s puppy eyes. “How can I make it up to you, Ry?”

Ryan paused. 

“You want food, don’t you?”

“In my defense, it is dinnertime for me.”

“Okay, Okay. You watch the door, I’ll go see what I have.” 

“Sounds fair.”

Shane walked off to the kitchen, and Ryan watched the pale blue of his button-up shirt disappear around the corner. 

Ryan, now suddenly without company, looked up at the ceiling in boredom to see it lit up by the sun that was beginning to turn the air golden. 

Another knock at the door. 

Ryan sighed, not wanting to move but determined to keep his word to Shane. He got up, grabbing the bowl of candy as he passed, and opened the door. 

“Woah, Mr. Bergara, you live here?” Ryan was greeted by two officers he recognized from Shane’s club- he recalls their names to be Carlos and Kat along with someone he recognized to be one of the basketball captains, Shawna Young. 

“That’s wild.” Kat said. “You know him?” Ryan looked down to see two nine-year-olds dressed as a chimney sweep and a zombie, respectively. “Yeah,” Kat said, looking down at her sister. “He’s a teacher at the highschool.”

“Ooooh, okay. Trick or treat!” The Zombie chirped up at him. 

Ryan laughed, and held out the bowl. “Take two.” he advised. 

“Wait, let’s go back to the part where you live here?” Carlos said, confused. 

“Ah, well, the thing is-” 

“This isn’t Ryan’s house.” Ryan felt a familiar, warm long-fingered hand come to rest on his shoulder. 

“YOU GUYS LIVE TOGETHER?!” Kat gasped loudly. 

“No, actually-” Shane started. 

“I was just visiting.” Ryan amended. “I just came over, as a friend.”

“Uh huh.” Shawna said from her position in the back, sounding incredibly unbelieving. Shane abruptly took his hand off Ryan’s shoulder, realizing how possessive he looked. 

“It’s true. Ryan just came to help hand out candy- Why am I trying to justify myself to a group of children?” 

“Because we’re your _favorite_ group of children.” Carlos offered. 

“Why are you even here?” Shane sighed. 

“My little sister and Carlos’ little brother are best friends, we're supervising trick or treating because we are responsible adults.” 

“Yet, why do I doubt that?” Ryan mumbled. 

“ _Major_ shade from Mr. Bergara over here,” Kat joked. 

“Can we go to the next house?” Shawna’s little sister (the chimney sweep) asked, clearly fed up with this conversation. 

“Of course.” Shawna said. 

They left almost as quickly as they came, in a flurry of ‘goodbyes’ and ‘thank you’s. 

Shane closed the door, immediately leaning on it for support. “Oh god, they know where I _live_.” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” Ryan chastised him, “It’s not like they’re going to kill you in your sleep or anything.”

Shane looked at him with fearful eyes. “Clearly you don’t know them as well as I do.”

“... Noted.”

Shane stood up straight. “So you want to help cook dinner?”

“Don’t I have to man the door?”

“Ehh, you can hear when people knock from the kitchen.”

“Alright then. I’m a horrible cook, though, so your loss really.”

“We’ll see.”

Shane started off toward the kitchen, Ryan following behind like an imprinted duckling. _Cute._

Ryan looked at what Shane had gathered on the counter-top. He picked up a can of bamboo shoots, examining the label in morbid curiosity. “Are you making stir fry…?”

“I thought I would, won’t take too long. You fine with chicken?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Good.” Shane opened the fridge and pulled out what looked like a chicken breast marinating in a ziploc bag. Ryan sat down at one of the stools at the small island, satisfied to watch for now. 

“Hey, can you chop up the celery? I already washed it.” 

So much for watching. “Sure thing.” But what did he care? Ryan was helping Shane cook dinner, like they were some cute old married couple. Not that’s what Ryan wants, Well, No, but, aw hell he doesn’t even know what he wants. 

Shane passed him a cutting board and knife, before turning back to where he was opening the can of bamboo shoots. 

Ryan started to chop the celery into little crescents, and soon the kitchen echoed with the rattling of cookware. 

“Oh.” Shane realized. Ryan glanced over. “I forgot something.” 

“Should I be worried?”

“...Maybe?”

Ryan huffed out a laugh. “That’s reassuring.” Shane set down the can opener and ventured deeper into the house. Ryan went to answer a knock at the door, swiping his cowboy hat off the coffee table and putting it on, giving the pair of kids a smile. 

Shane walked back into the kitchen, smiling excitedly, holding two aprons. He looked up and paused. “...Ryan?” He took a hesitant step forward. “Are you hiding?” He peeked under the table. “... that’s a no.” 

Ryan closed the front door, walking back to the kitchen and hearing Shane’s confused syntax. Ryan crept up behind him. 

“Did you… evaporate? I was gone for, like, three seconds and you evaporate. C’mon, man.” 

Ryan smirked, deviously. 

“Did he go to the bathroom?” Shane pondered aloud as he set down the second apron. 

Ryan remanded silent, standing behind him. 

“He wouldn’t leave without telling me…” This was softer, just above a troubled murmur. “...Right?” This word was even quieter yet, just above a faint prayer. 

Suddenly, all desire to scare Shane (Halloween or not) dissipated. He watched, detached, and still silent as Shane ducked half-heartedly to put on his apron, reaching behind his back to tie it, long fingers fumbling. 

Ryan blinked back to reality and padded up behind Shane. “Here, let me help you with that.” He whispered, taking the apron’s ties from him and pulling them tight. Shane let out a soft gasp. 

“Where d’ja go?” He asked, finally turning around to gaze down at Ryan. 

“Someone knocked on the door. Just some trick-or-treaters.” Ryan said, hesitantly stepping away from Shane. 

“Oh. I, uh... I thought I’d give you this, don’t want to ruin your shirt.” Shane grabbed the second apron and sheepishly held it out to him. 

“Yeah.” Ryan took it, putting it over his head. “Return the favor?” He asked, twisting so his back was to Shane. 

“Sure,” Shane stepped closer to tug the strings of Ryan’s apron into a simple bow. 

“Well!” Ryan turned around with a sly smile. “Let’s get cooking!”

“Yeah,” Shane chuckled, stealing Ryan’s cowboy hat and setting it atop his own head, ignoring Ryan’s soft protest of “Hey!” 

-

The stir fry was, in fact, delicious. 

-

And when Ryan finally got home, grinning ear-to-ear at eleven-thirty, he sent Shane a quick text to tell him he had arrived safely, as he had promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas, is it gay to sneak up behind your best friend only to gently tie his apron for him?  
> Asking for a friend.
> 
> P.S. I won't be able to respond to your comments right away, ;'( but I'll get around to it don't worry!!! I won't leave you guys hanging! <3


	9. I Shall Die a Slow and Painful Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I probably wouldn't have a chapter, much less this late, but I’m also a liar who cannot be trusted. 
> 
> I have two stories published and they both bring up Roman currency. Am I projecting? I guess I’m just a slut for old shiny Italian coins.

**Friday, November 7th**

“This famous Shakespeare character cannot be killed by a man born of woman.” 

The harsh sound of a buzzer. “MACBETH!” That was Ryan’s kid. _Good, that means we’ve pulled ahead, 6-5._

Ryan heard a sigh from across the room that sounded suspiciously like Shane’s. He watched out the corner of his eye as the next students in line stepped up to the buzzers. _Alright, two more questions, we can do this._

“This company was the first national soft drink brand in Mexico.” 

A hesitant buzzer ring. “...Jarritos?” 

“Correct.” 

_Damn, that was one of Shane’s kids. That means we're tied 6-6._

He saw Shane lean forwards in his seat. Either of them could win now. One more question, one more chance to win. 

“This species of fish is critically endangered due to human exploitation to farm it’s eggs, which are made into caviar.” 

_Thank god,_ Shane thought. The student from his class was fascinated with wildlife biology- a sandy-haired boy named Lucas. Sure enough, there was a quick hit to the buzzer. 

“The Beluga Sturgeon!” 

_6-7_

Shane’s class had won. They’ve pulled ahead. 

**Saturday, November 8th.**

“No shorts this time, big guy?” Ryan shut his car door and faced Shane, frisbee already in hand. 

“No, the last time I made the brave decision to wear shorts I was publicly humiliated by a man I thought was my best friend.” 

“Okay, that is not true.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“No, It isn’t.”

“Is”

“Isn’t.”

“Is.”

“Isn’t.” 

“Ugh, whatever, you child.” Shane started walking. 

“A child? Me? Sure thing, _Mr. I-draw-a-cartoon-about-stupid-foodstuffs-with-a-convoluted-plot-and-then-lie-about-it.”_

Shane gasped, offended. “I would NEVER lie about _The Hot Doga_ Ryan! I really don’t write it! Can’t you see that?”

“Honestly, no, it seems like something you’d do.” 

“ _Well.”_

Ryan threw the frisbee at him, point-blank, from two feet away. It hit Shane in the stomach, and he collapsed onto the grass, cradling his middle. 

“Thou hast killed thee” He groaned, flinging one arm up to cover his eyes. 

“Shane, get up.”

“No! I shall die a slow and painful death where I lie!” 

“You won’t die from a frisbee, c’mon man.”

“No! I shall!”

“Shane, get up before someone calls 911.” Shane rolled over. “Sure,” Ryan started to turn around. “ _But_ you have to help me up.” He held out his hand. 

“What are you, some delicate stereotype of a Victorian lady?” 

“Yes. Help me up, brave young man.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but took his hand, leaning back and tugging hard to get all seven feet of delicate Miss Madej off the ground. Shane was pulled to his feet, just inches away from Ryan. 

“My hero.” He whispered with a smile, looking into Ryan’s dark but inexplicably glowing eyes. 

Ryan glanced down at Shane’s lips. Shane kept smiling, but a softer smile, meant only for Ryan. 

Ryan, realizing what he’d done looked away, embarrassed. He stepped back. 

“C’mon, big guy, let’s go play frisbee.” 

“Sure.” Shane said, trying not to feel disheartened. I mean, of course Ryan wouldn’t kiss him. First of all, it’s a public place, and they’re gay, which is practically bait for unwanted comments. Second of all, Why would he want to? Ryan is, well… Ryan, and Shane will always just be an uninteresting, weirdo history teacher. _Now that that’s settled,_ He thought. It all made sense. He was acting immature and childish and probably looked like a complete idiot. 

“Shane? Shane? Did you hear me?”

Shane shook his head. “Yeah, I heard you. Let’s play some frisbee.” 

**Sunday, November 9th**

He doesn’t know why he did it. 

That’s a lie. Ryan knows exactly what he did- or rather, didn’t do. 

And he feels so _fucking_ bad about it. 

Normally, Ryan would never feel bad about something like this. What did he do, just not kiss someone? And that’s his fault? 

All it took was one glance into Shane’s tarnished bronze eyes to see the sadness that pooled there, the slump of his shoulders and the careful avoidance of the meeting of gazes. 

He just looked so _hurt_. At first, Ryan was confused. Why would Shane be hurt? It didn’t occur to Ryan until later, when he got home, but it was because Shane thought it was his own fault. 

He liked Shane. A lot. Like, _a lot_ a lot. But he feels… like he’s a mess. Ryan’s a mess. He wanted to kiss Shane then. But it was too new, and they were coworkers. I mean, that’s weird, right? It’s supposed to be weird. 

Ryan wants to date Shane. He wants to call him his boyfriend. He wants them to cook together terribly, he wants to listen to Shane rant on about Roman currency for hours, and he _does_ want to kiss him. But not now. The time isn’t right- Ryan still has some shit to sort out. 

He’ll talk to Shane about it. Yeah. Shane won’t bring it up, he’ll be too embarrassed. Ryan will do it. 

It’ll be fine. 

**Monday, November 10th**

Ryan never brought it up.

He couldn’t find the right words, so instead of wrecking something good, he just let the conversation pass. 

_It’s probably for the best,_ they both think. 

On the other hand, Ryan has an excuse to be distracted because basketball tryouts start today. Plus, it also means that he won’t have to face Shane after school, because practice goes until five o’clock, and his club doesn’t meet on Mondays so there’s no reason for him to stick around. A tentative win-win situation for Ryan. 

-

Ryan sighed. He thought Tryouts were bad when he was in high school, but being the one behind the clipboard is almost worse. He quickly scribbles something down before he goes back to watching the final scrimmage of the day. The player wearing number thirty-four was smart, but not very fast and strong. The player wearing fifty-two was fast and good at dodging, but was missing almost all her shots. Should he bump her to varsity, knowing she’ll probably be benched most of the time? Or should he put her on J.V., where she’ll get more time on the court? 

Ryan watches her dodge around two people and then miss a layup. He marks her down as J.V.. His chart says she’s a sophomore, this will give her more time to work on her shooting, and this way, he can coach her. 

He hears the girls’ head coach, Mrs. Smithfield, blow the whistle and the players all stopped where they were. Practice was over. 

He hands her the sheet of paper and heads back to his classroom to grab the rest of his stuff. 

The sun was close to the horizon- it would probably set in an hour or two. He stopped to look out the window in the hall, thinking about the coming winter. He would be busy with basketball, and wouldn't get to see Shane as much. The thought pulled at his heart, made the shadows cast by the setting sun seem darker than they were moments ago. He looked away, kept walking. He stopped outside his classroom. 

The door was open. 

Ryan could've sworn he closed it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a mean mean person to end it there >:D our boi Ryan might be in some trouble 
> 
> p.s. You know I had to write a fic with the words ‘beluga sturgeon’ in it.


	10. Wow, He's Really Salty About This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane murders Ryan, like who even reads these y'all know the authors notes are more interesting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me try to apply Lacrosse logic to basketball because I don’t know how basketball works but have played one sport (lacrosse) for 5+ years, yikes

No, Ryan definitely closed the door before he left for tryouts. Which means someone was:

  1. Looking for him
  2. Looking for something in his classroom 
  3. Still in his classroom 



Ryan decided he liked none of these options. 

He took a step forward, then hesitated. All visitors had to go through the front office, so chances of someone breaking in were fairly low. Which means it’s probably another teacher or staff member. Ryan took a deep breath and stuck his head inside the classroom. 

He tensed, seeing a figure in the low-light of the sunset, perched cross-legged on the student table closest to his desk. They checked their watch, letting out an audible sigh before returning to scribble on the stack of papers that sat in their lap. 

_ Oh, _ Ryan relaxed. _ It’s just Shane.  _

“I thought you’d gone home. Shane, it’s late” Ryan said, now fully standing in the doorway. 

Shane looked up, startled. “Uh, I know, sorry, I was just grading these worksheets. I mean, home or not these would need to be done before anything, so really I’m just managing my time…” He trailed off as Ryan approached. 

“You didn’t have to stay for me.” Ryan said, his eyes searching Shane’s face for something. 

Shane scoffed. “Bold of you to assume I stayed just for you Bergara, I’m a busy man, as you can see, clearly-” 

“Shane.” Ryan interrupted him. “Really, thanks.” 

Shane looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yeah, well, we should get going.” He gathered up the papers and shoved them into his bag haphazardly before leaping off the table and stretching, vertebrae cracking after being hunched over for so long. 

Ryan grabbed his backpack and followed Shane wordlessly out the door. 

-

Sure enough, everyday after school, after basketball, Ryan walks back to his classroom and sees Shane perched up on that desk, answering emails, grading papers or some other thinly-veiled excuse to stay there until Ryan walks through the door. (Which, by that time he is miraculously done with any work he had.) 

And it never failed to warm Ryan’s heart every  _ goddamn  _ time. 

**Friday, November 14th**

The basketball fell through the hoop with a satisfying  _ swish. _

“Alright, hold up.” Ryan jogged over to where he had paused the 3v3 drill. “Haley, when you see Sophie cut to center like that, you have to make sure the pass is clear, otherwise you’re turning over the ball. And defense, when you see that pass, feel free to intercept.” They nodded, clearly exhausted. 

“Okay. Next point wins, then you can go get water.” 

They resumed play, ball changing hands once before a freshman named Yasmin makes a shot about six feet out. Sophie picked up the ball and they all went to get water.

Ryan waited until they all came back over. “Because the red team lost-” he started. 

“Like you.” 

“What?” he turned to see that Haley had spoken. 

“Like you, this morning.” 

Ryan put his hands on his hips. “Now, I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Y’know, how Mr. Madej’s classroom beat you in hangman. By a lot.” Sophie helped, unhelpfully. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Classic selective memory.” Haley whispered to a blonde-haired girl named Ashley. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Ryan resolved. 

“Look, Coach, there’s nothing to be ashamed about,” Yasmin contributed. “You got your butt handed to you in hangman. Happens to the best of us.”. 

Ryan thought he heard someone murmur _ ‘Does it?’ _

“All I’m hearing is that you guys want to run laps.” 

“Wow, he’s really salty about this.” 

“Right?”

Ryan heard Coach Smithfield’s whistle. Practice was over. The girls started to gather their things. 

“Hold up. You think I was kidding about those laps? Four. Full court. Get going.” Coach Bergara said. The team grumbled, setting down their stuff and starting to jog. 

-

Shane looked up as Ryan walked through the door. “You look… Full of despair.” 

Ryan sighed heavily. “Yeah dude, the team kept making fun of me.” 

“Mhm, remind me I owe them twenty bucks for that.” 

“WHAT?! Shane??” 

“Kidding.” 

“I can never tell with you.”

Shane threw him a wink as he walked out the door. 

**Saturday, November 15th**

Ryan snuggled deeper into the warmth of Shane’s sofa, tugging the soft blanket closer as the credits rolled. It was around noon. He smiled to himself, perfectly happy. Unfortunately, his stomach took the moment to grumble rather loudly. 

Shane turned to look at him. “I think you’ve got a demon in your tummy!”

Ryan looked down at his belly. “He’s hungry.”

“If I feed him, will he  _ not _ eat me?”

“Most likely.”

Shane pondered for a second. “I like those chances.”

“Thought you would.” 

“Here-” He handed Ryan the remote. “Just pick an episode of a show to watch, I’ll make lunch.” 

“Alright.” Ryan studied the remote. He found the exit button and started browsing. “You’ve been rewatching Hannibal?”

“Yeah.” Shane said from where he was rummaging around in his cupboard. 

“Let’s just finish the episode you're on.”

“Sounds good.” Shane said, opening up his fridge. “You okay with grilled cheese for lunch?”

“Yeah.” Ryan paused, watching the T.V.  _ “God  _ those two are gay.” 

“Ha, me.” Shane commented without looking up from the stove. “Uh,” He looked up, realizing an important detail. “Not me because I’m a serial killer though.”

Ryan turned to look at him over the back of the couch, peering into the kitchen. “Sounds fake but ok.” 

Shane let out a laugh, moving to adjust the temperature on the stove. 

Show forgotten, Ryan rested his arms on the back of the couch, shamelessly staring at Shane cooking. He was wearing sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, clear glasses pushed up on his nose and hair slightly messy from fighting over the blanket with Ryan. The Saturday sun pooled around him, reflecting off the kitchen tile and shining through his hair in a way that colored it like honey. 

_ I could do this forever,  _ Ryan thought.  _ Watch Shane do dumb shit and burn our lunch.  _ Ryan wasn’t even mad about that last detail.  _ He looks so full of life, I just want to wrap my arms around him, he almost looks peaceful- _

“Ow!” Shane exclaimed as he burned himself. 

_ Shit _ , Ryan realized. _ I’m so in love with this dork.  _

Shane glanced over at him, sunlight sparkling in his eyes, grinning. 

Ryan beamed back at him. 

Shane turned back to pull out two plates, sliding the sandwiches from the pan onto the plates. He walked back to the couch, sitting down and handing a plate to Ryan with a smile that made his heart flutter. 

Ryan took the plate with a quick ‘thanks’. He looked up at Shane again. A few strands of hair had fallen from where he swept it up, and Ryan felt the urge to push it back with his palm to join the rest of his hair. The noonday sun, although fainter in the living room, reflected off his glasses in a prism of colors. He looked so soft, yet so bright. 

Ryan impulsively reached out and poked him in the cheek. 

Shane looked up, puzzled. “Is this a twisted way of telling me the grilled cheese is bad?”

“No.”

This made Shane even more confused. “Then what?”

“You did burn it a little, I have to say.” Said Ryan, ignoring Shane’s last question. 

“Oh, like you could have done better.” 

“Hey, I’m actually really good at making grilled cheese.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!” 

“You don’t get to argue, I kicked your ass at hangman.”

“That has nothing to do with this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, grilled cheese: the food of great romance 
> 
> You know I had to make them watch Hannibal just for that joke


	11. DAVIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me I’ve never told you guys the reason for me naming the chapters after quotes from the chapters is because I want y’all to click ‘chapter index’ and be confronted by the sheer chaos of what you’ve chosen to read.

**Thursday, November 20th**

“Gather ‘round, my feral fellows.” 

“Please,” Josephine said desperately, “I’m begging you, just say y’all.” 

“No can do, Beefcake.” Kat said, looking her dead in the eye. 

“Beefcake…” Josephine muttered with a mix of indignance and disgust. 

“I don’t care what the original purpose of this meeting was, but you keep up your increasingly vitriolic speech patterns and this will become an intervention.” Shawna said calmly, crossing her arms. 

“Damn, Shawna bringin’ the shade.” Felix said, impressed. 

“You guys are no fun anymore.” Kat grumbled. “At least Carlos still cares about my feelings. Right, Carlos?”

Carlos looked up from where he’d been reading  _ The Invisible Man  _ for English class. “What?”

Kat nodded, satisfied. “I didn’t hear a ‘no’. Carlos sides with me.”

“Carlos sides with himself.” He said, shutting the book. 

“Still don’t know why we’re here.” Josephine pointed out. Felix shot her finger-guns in solemn agreement. 

“Right, I thought we’d start organizing the footage for the compilation.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Yeah that’s reasonable.” 

“Cool.”

“Sure.” 

“Wow guys,” Kat grumbled. “Your enthusiasm blows me away every time.” 

Shawna made a gesture that said  _ please can we just move on.  _

“So because Carlos has the most raw film, but sucks at editing-”

“It hurts because it’s true.” Carlos acknowledged. 

“I thought if we can split the work by semester, we can get this semester’s footage loaded on a hard drive and get it to Felix, who is, at the very least, is better at editing then Carlos-”

“Still hurts.” Carlos nodded along. 

“- and he can cut it and then pass it along for finishing touches, last review-”

“What are you guys still doing in the library?” 

“AH, MR. LIM SO NICE TO SEE YOU HERE.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“YES! THE COINCIDENCE ASTOUNDS ME!” 

“Kat, please stop yelling, we’re in a library.”

“How could I forget. Silly me.” Kat laughed nervously. 

“... So why are you here? Shawna, shouldn't you be at basketball? Aren’t you a captain?”

“I got lost.” Shawna deadpanned. 

“... Do I need-” Mr. Lim squinted. “Do I need to tell the principal? What were you discussing?” 

“Scooby-Doo.” Felix volunteered at the same time as Josephine exclaimed “Dracula.” with pride. 

Steven blinked behind his glasses. “Don’t lie.”

“Why would we lie about this?” Shawna asked.

“Look-” Mr. Lim brought a hand up to rub his face. “As long as you’re not breaking any rules, or doing anything sketchy, you should be good.” 

_ “Does a secret plot to get two of your teachers to date count as sketchy?”  _ Kat whispered to Shawna loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Oh,” Steven relaxed. “This is just the whole Bergara-Madej thing. Carry on.”

“Wait, you know about this?” 

“Yeah, I have to put up with them being so obviously in love too.” Mr. Lim turned and paused before walking away. “I didn’t hear any of this, ok?”

“For sure, Mr Lim.” Stated Carlos. 

The students waited until he was out of earshot before they turned to each other. 

“So that happened?”

“Yeah, I guess we’re not the only ones who wish they’d just get together already.” 

“I mean,” Felix offered, “The heart-eyes are a little much. Other people are bound to notice.”

“Other people? Bitch? The whole school knows.” Kat said. 

“...True.” 

**Friday, November 21st.**

Screw Ryan. Screw him. He doesn’t even matter. Shane can move on. He’ll get over him. 

“And you know what?” Shane ranted to his stapler after school. “How dare he!” 

His stapler didn’t answer. 

“He can’t just do this to me! No!” Shane threw his hands up in the air. “I should just move on.” He started pacing. “Be the better person, y’know? He’ll  _ hate _ that.”

“God,” Shane sighed, falling heavily into his swivel chair. “I can’t believe he’d betray me like this. Maybe I’ll hire a hitman. Cut his beak line. It would be so much easier. Or I could just smother him in his sleep, set his apartment on fire-”

“I love how you’re plotting my murder when I’m literally within earshot.”

“When else am I supposed to do it Ryan? At lunch? In third hour?” 

“Or, and hear me out, you could not plot my death?”

“...No.”

“Jesus, Shane I won one game of pop-culture jeopardy and you’d think I put a knife in your back.” 

“Exactly, Ryan. How dare you.” 

“That’s not what I-”

“Yes it is.” 

Ryan looked at Shane with mild disappointment. “So it’s going to be like that, huh?” 

Shane glared at Ryan. 

“...Were we going to walk home?”

“Are you going to betray me on the way there?”

“JESUS CHRIST SHANE YOU WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAME THING.” 

“Yeah, but I would have been nicer about it.” 

“That’s a blatant lie.” 

“You suck.”

“Loser.”

“Bitch.”

“Well I’m going home.” Ryan said indignantly, standing and grabbing his backpack before starting out the door. 

“Woah, wait up!” Shane scrambled to grab his things. Ryan rolled his eyes, already in the hall. 

-

“What’s your faaaavorite flower?” Ryan slurred, staring up at Shane from where he had his head in his lap on Shane’s sofa. 

“I think you’ve had a few too many, little guy.” Shane commented, knowing that he was a little more than tipsy himself. 

“I think it’s a lily. One of those white ones, y’know?” 

“Lilies are nice.”

“White, like you.” Ryan giggled. 

“Wow, thanks. But you’re wrong, lilies aren’t my favorite.”

“Oh no!” Ryan gasped. “Is it a daisy? Daisies are nice. Simple but bright. They always make me happy.” 

“Yeah, Ry. My favorite flower is a daisy.” 

“Really? I thought you’d like tulips.” 

“Do tulips always make you happy?”

“Mmmm, no, not really.” 

“Then my favorite flower is a daisy.” 

“Makes sense.” Ryan nodded although it really didn’t. 

“What about orchids?”

“Nice, but no good for bouquets.” 

“Daffodils?” 

“Nah. They fail the vibe check.” Shane thought for a moment. “Almost all the flowers you’ve named are white. Something on your mind?” Shane asked when Ryan closed his eyes.

“I was… Thinking about weddings. Earlier.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I guess my parents were just bugging me about finding someone to settle down with.”

Shane gave a gentle laugh. “I know the feeling.” 

“They want grandkids.” 

“Mhm.” Shane, who was perhaps more drunk then he thought, had an idea. “Maybe… You can just pass something else off as your child?”

“What?”

“Like,” Shane reached over to grab his tan cowboy hat from the coffee table and held it out to Ryan. “Mom, Dad, this is Davis. I’ve only had him for three months but I love him already.” Ryan burst into laughter, falling off the couch and onto the floor. Shane, who was busy laughing at Ryan, also somehow ended up on the floor on top of him, laughing even harder. 

“Ry,” Shane said in between wheezes, “I don’t think you should walk home tonight.” Ryan, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes made a small questioning noise. 

“You’re pretty drunk. Someone’s going to kidnap you.”

“But what about work tomorrow?”

“It’s Friday night.” Shane stood up. “C’mon, I have an extra toothbrush. You can stay in the guest room.” 

“Alright. I’ll stay the night. Promise not to kidnap me?” 

“Cross my heart.” Shane said, pulling Ryan to his feet. 

Shane showed Ryan to the guest bedroom, handing him a change of clothes to sleep in and a toothbrush. “The pants will be long on you, but I bet you’re used to that.”

“Shut up, Shane.” 

-

For all his efforts, however, Ryan fell asleep still thinking about weddings. And Shane. And Shane at a wedding. In a wedding. Holding daisies. Smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan, the next morning, waking up slightly hungover in an unfamiliar bedroom: omg I’ve been kidnapped


	12. Cats are Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cats are birds. Pass it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some relatable content here. Shane struggles to cook something well.

**Saturday, November 22nd.**

Ryan groaned, flopping over and grabbing at his phone to check the time. It was already nine-thirty. “Ahhh, Shit.” Ryan sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He then caught sight of the ceiling. “This.... This isn’t my apartment.” he thought aloud. Then the memories of last night came floating back to him, warm and still somewhat fuzzy. “Oooh, I’m at Shane’s place.” 

He got up, not bothering to change back into yesterdays’ clothes but pausing to roll up the pant legs, lightly cursing Shane and his outrageous height. Ryan then walked out into the living room, peering into the kitchen to see if Shane was up yet. 

He was. 

He was also trying to cook, which was never a good thing. Ryan decided an intervention was necessary. 

“Mornin’?”

“Ah,” Shane looked up. “You can just hang or whatever, I’m making pancakes.” 

Ryan walked over and gave a pointed look to where it looked like Shane had spilled the flour and tried to sweep it up with his hands. “You’re making a  _ mess _ .” 

Shane put his hands on his hips, offended. He was quite the picture, standing there in his apron in the morning sun looking at Ryan like a disappointed aunt. 

“I’m making you breakfast, you ungrateful child-man.”

“I resent that title.”

“Of course you do.” Shane picked up his spatula and gestured at one of the chairs at the small table in the kitchen. “Sit down.” 

“Fine, fine.” Ryan grumbled, sitting down and crossing his legs. He watched as Shane went back to flipping pancakes. Shane slid one onto his spatula, and started to transfer it over to the stack of cooked pancakes when it slid off halfway to the plate. 

“Need help there buddy?”

Shane turned to look at him. “Not from you.”

“So you admit that you need help?”

“No.” Shane picked up the pancake from the countertop, hesitated and then put it on the stack. 

“Are you sure about that?”

“Quiet, you.” 

“Alright, Alright.” 

Ryan grinned as Shane went back to flipping pancakes, gently cursing out one that was taking too long to cook.  _ God, _ Ryan thought.  _ There’s nothing I wouldn't do for this man. And I think it’s been that way for a while now.  _ Ryan watches Shane flip another pancake. _ Was it when he bought me my cowboy hat? Nah, it was probably after the first day of basketball when he waited for me.  _

Shane turned the stove off, setting the pan in the sink and walking over with the stack of pancakes. He handed Ryan an empty plate with a fork and knife on it, and sat down. Ryan murmured a soft “thanks”. Ryan impaled a couple pancakes with the fork and dragged them onto his plate. 

Ryan took a bite, making a small noise of surprise. “They’re only slightly underdone!”

“Excuse you. They’re perfect.”

“You haven’t even taken a bite yet.”

“No, but I cooked them so I should know.”

“I’m pretty sure those are not equivalent.” 

“Yeah, well I’m _ ‘pretty sure’ _ that all cats are actually birds, but that doesn’t make me right now, does it?” 

“You think that all cats are birds?”

“No.”

Ryan squinted, suspicious. “Seems like something you’d believe.” 

“I mean, for all we know they could be.”

“Then why do cats eat birds?”

“Maybe cats are the rouge enforcement of an authoritarian government’s rule.” 

“So you’ve put a lot of thought into this, huh?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“I didn’t ask you to, just eat your damn pancakes Ryan.”

Ryan laughed and took another bite of his pancakes. 

-

“You got everything?” 

“Yeah.”

“Phone?”

“Yeah, Shane.”

“Wallet? Keys?”

“Check and check.” 

“And text me when you get home?” 

“Yeah, of course. Why are you always so concerned about me walking home alone? It's the middle of the day.”

“I just don’t want you to get kidnapped.”

“You really think I’m going to get kidnapped?”

“Hey, L.A.’s a big city.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean that someone would want to kidnap-”

“-And you’re so small no one would notice right away if you went missing.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sure.” Shane laughed from where he was leaning against the door frame, gazing down at Ryan, who was standing on the first step. 

“That’s not what-” Ryan quickly said. 

“Yeah, whatever. Just scram,” Shane made a shooing motion with his hand. “Don’t you have places to be, plants to water?” 

“Uh, sure… Just, Just one more thing.” Ryan hesitated for a second before leaning up on his tip-toes and pressing a kiss to Shane’s cheek, quick and soft. 

Ryan pulled back with a wary smile. Shane gazed at him in wonder. 

“I’ll see you on Monday.” Ryan turned and walked off into the afternoon. 

Shane felt his fingers graze his cheek in a daze. He watches Ryan walk away, glowing brighter than the sun, eyes shining as he turns the street corner and ducked out of Shane’s line of sight. To anyone else, he was just another stranger; to Shane he was resplendent.

Shane stood on his doorstep for another fifteen or so minutes, before dropping his hand back down to his side and closing the door behind him. 

-

_ Sent 1:37 p.m. _

**Home. Didn’t get kidnapped.**

_ You sure? How do I know I’m talking to Ryan?  _

**Hold on.**

_ I’m not going to pay ransom, I’m a public _

_ school teacher, I have no money.  _

**I’m worth the three dollars you have**

**left in your bank account, though?**

**** _ Yeah you are _

Shane took off his glasses, putting them back in the case and closing it. He grabbed his phone and sighed nervously, sitting down. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to sort through his feelings. He felt his phone vibrate. He looked down and unlocked it. It was a picture of Ryan (Proof he hadn’t been kidnapped.) smiling widely, standing in the entry of his apartment giving the camera a thumbs-up. Shane’s heart fluttered at the sight. 

_ Sent 1:44 _

_ Glad to see you home safe.  _

**Thanks, me too.**

Shane snorted a little at that. 

_ I’ll see you Monday  _

_ Read 1:46 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^D Is the text formatting weird? Let me know if it's too confusing, I can change it.
> 
> Have a lovely, lovely day!!!


End file.
